


A life on the razor edge

by LlewellyenAnChaisleainDubh



Series: Blood and Whiskey [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BDSM, Explicit Language, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:03:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 28,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LlewellyenAnChaisleainDubh/pseuds/LlewellyenAnChaisleainDubh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years. Two men, separated from each other and from the life that was their nature. But then one of them lets fall his disguise and comes to the other one, so they can start their old life again. Unfortunately things change in two years and so do people. </p><p>Sequel to "Let's paint the world red".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Because I have so impatient readers the prologue comes now (how you can see xD). Again thanks to nitininha, who is the beta of this work too, to the gang because I know they will forgive me for all the things I did in the story before, when they read a few chapters of this story, and to all the other readers. I hope you'll enjoy it like you enjoyed my first story.

**Prologue**

Something woke him up. He couldn't remember anymore that he had fallen asleep, but he woke up, so he had to have slept. His whole body hurt, his head, his arms and shoulders, his legs. Blood was running down his forehead into his eyes. Blood. Did he fall? Did a branch of a tree hit him on the head? Maybe he hadn't slept. Maybe he had been unconscious? 

 

Slowly he looked down at his own body. He didn't lay on the ground, he saw now. His feet didn't touch the ground and something tied his arms over his head, probably to another branch. Panic conquered his mind. With his weight he moved himself, but he just felt that something... ropes, probably, carved into the flesh of his wrist.

 

“Moving makes it worse.” A male voice told him in a disinterested, bored tone.

But now he realised that he wasn't alone.

 

The blood and the headache made it hard to look at the man in front of him. Blond hair. He had to be European or American, although his skin was tanned. Maybe he had been a long time in India. For a European or American he wasn't tall nor small. Something around 1,80 metres. His muscles were well-defined under the sleeveless shirt he was wearing, his arms strong.

 

“Help,” the tied man whispered.

A smile flitted about the other man's face. It was the smile of a shark and it made the tied man shiver with fear. This man wouldn't help him, he realised. 

 

The untied man sat on an overthrown trunk, next to him lay something that looked like a rifle. He followed the eyes of the tied man and laughed. Not a nice laugh. Angry and a little bit mad. With an elegant move he stood up. His feet didn't make a sound on the jungle ground while he walked forward to the tied man. 

 

Said man fell in panic again when his eyes met the ones of this strange man who moved like a tiger. The tiger-man had blue eyes, cold. He looked at the other man like he was prey and it scared the tied man very much.

 

“Please, please, sir, I have never done anything wrong! I-”  
With a simple move of his hand the tiger-man stopped him talking. “I saw you...and your _friends_ ,” he spoke the word like an insult. “Poacher you are. Tiger-poacher. Did you really think there's no punishment for it? Did you think, because the fucking government didn't find you, you were safe?“ The tiger-man pulled out an Army knife out of his pants. “You will have to face the charge of your fucking gods, but before you do it, we will play a little bit.”  
  
The sharkish smile was back when the tiger-man ripped off the t-shirt of the poacher, who was too scared to beg. His tanned hands still looked very bright against the tied poacher's dark skin. 

 

“Do you know what the best thing is?” The tiger-man whispered in the poacher's ear. 

Said one shook weakly his head. 

“Your friends can't go to the police and tell them you are vanished because they would have to admit what they have done. And they'll never know what happened with you, because I know how to hide bodies. I have learned from the best.”  


And then the knife bit in the poacher's skin under the eye, while the tiger-man was mumbling what he would do to the poacher. Skin his cheek and then let him stay there until the flies lay their eggs into his face. The poacher would still be alive when they would start to eat them, the tiger-man swore. And the poacher believed him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davin Smith is an ordinary professor of the Dublin City university.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All who watched The Stag already will notice that Davin Smith bases on Andrew Scott's role in it. I hope you will have fun with it. Thanks goes like alkways to nitinha, who corrected the chapter, the gang and to the rest of my readers.

**Chapter 1: 6** **th** **November 2013, Dublin, Leinster, Ireland**

Davin Smith was an ordinary professor of the Dublin City university with an odd taste in fashion. His wardrobe was full with cardigans in the form of suit jackets, green shirts as well as white, blue, pink and even brown ones. His trousers were the most normal thing in his wardrobe: mostly jeans. Except for his taste fashion, he was quite ordinary. His students and colleagues liked him for his calm, decent manner, the bar keepers of his favourite pub couldn't remember him, because he was never too loud, never started a fight and never asked if they could make the television louder. He was politely smiling at every person he met and didn't understand much about technology like most other professors. 

 

All these facts let the people ignore how blank his face went sometimes, how his almost black eyes stared into the air like the eyes of a dead person or how they glanced dangerously. Except of his visits in his favourite pub, where sometimes women activated him, nobody knew much about his private life. The said women seemed like they made him nervous. Once he had pushed over his glass beer, so it fell to the ground, where it had been shattered. The nervous excuses let the woman turn around and she had never spoken with him again. 

 

“Next week we'll talk about your exams,” he just told his students, who looked very bored.

Their chattering when they put their stuff together, was slow and quiet, more a mumbling of “Do you wanna go to the pub?”, “What did you eat today?”. Boring, boring, boring.

 

Davin watched them leaving the lecture room, before he went to turn off his laptop. Of course he noticed the girl who was obviously waiting for him. A young thing, just 21, but talented in Mathematics if he remembered her last exam right (and he always remembered things right). Obviously she was nervous: She stepped from one foot to the other, biting her lower lip while she was watching him turning off the electronic equipment, before he turned his attention to her.

 

“Miss... O'Sullivan?” He asked like he had forgotten her name. Of course he hadn't. “Can I help you?”

She nodded before she came to his desk chewing on her lower lip. “Yeah, urm... I wanted to ask if you want to drink something. Eh, I mean... like a beer or something!” Too fast, too excited. 

Davin raised a brow. “You know I'm not allowed to have private relationships with my students, don't you?”

Miss O'Sullivan blushed. “Yeah, but... we could make an exception.”

 

He sighed, knowing that he was supposed to say  yes , so nobody suspected him being another man than he was pretending to be. But she wasn't his type. The real man under the disguise of Davin Smith preferred men. Not just men. A special kind of men. The guys who thought they were the alpha dogs, but when you found out their little secrets, played a little bit with their minds, they were just little pets. 

 

His shirt pressed warm metal against his chest, metal that reminded him of the power he could have, the men he could have as pets. A part of him, dark and twisted, stirred. It wanted back what had been its so long time ago, but instead to go and search his favourite pet he smiled and replied:

“Okay, but just this time!”

 

~Φ~

 

It was Wednesday, the middle of the week, so the pub was barely visited. A few students drank beer after an  exhausting day , professors sat there to prepare the next lessons, to meet another professors or to talk with students. 

 

A couple in the right edge of the entrance sat too closely while the professor explained something to her student. Both women. That would make people talk (not that they did something else than talking). A boy of a group of friends (all male, all too drunk for 5 o'clock pm) found the courage to ask the female barkeeper (a pretty woman in her late 20s with dark hair, bright brown eyes and pale skin) about her number. She denied it of course and his friends gave him a half sneering, half pitying “Aww”. 

 

Davin saw all these things in one second, also noticed the professor in the back who sat around documents and the girls who were pointing at one of the guys, whispering how good looking he was. His student didn't. She just looked at him without batting an eye. Boring, dull, obvious. 

 

He walked to his usual place, a round table made of an old beer barrel. Miss O'Sullivan followed him. 

 

“What do you want to drink?” Davin asked her, smiling insecure (she thought his smile was cute, he could read in her face). 

“Ah... beer.”

“Okay.” He put his jacket on one of the bar stool while she was sitting down. When he went to the bar, he felt her eyes in his back.

“Two beers,” he told the barkeeper who denied giving the guy her number. He signed two with his index and middle finger like it was normal on the islands. In central Europe he would use thumb and index finger. 

She nodded before she went to fill two pints with beer. While she was doing this, he looked at the television that hang in the bar. 

 

One day before a message in the internet had made its way. To be more correct it had been a hashtag in all social media websites: Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, even Google’s social network, which was barely used to spread the news.  _ Sherlock lives.  _

 

_ Sherlock _ was the famous Consulting Detective William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Of course. After an actor with the name Richard Brook had told the whole world Holmes had been a fake, it had seemed like the great Detective had committed suicide. He had jumped from the rooftop of the Saint Bartholomew's Hospital in London. But it had been only after his  _ suicide _ when the truth came out. It hadn't been Holmes who had been a fake. It had been Richard Brook, a persona of the great criminal mastermind Jim Moriarty, who had vanished. The MI5 believed they had Moriarty's corpse, but Davin knew it better. The body was a man with the name Kevin O'Hara, Moriarty's PA. How could Davin know that? Well...

 

He blinked, still watching the television screen. 

 

In the news ticker of the channel, which was Raidió Teilifís Éireann, RTÉ, was written:  Sherlock Holmes lives . Davin grimaced. Of course it was true. A dark door with the number 221b was shown; journalists were chatting and went quiet when the door was opened. A man in a black coat and with a silly deerstalker came out followed by a short soldier fellow. 

 

Something in Davin dropped.

 

~Φ~

 

He straightened the suit, enjoying the feeling of expensive cloth on his skin again. Too long he had been in disguise. His eyes wandered to the girl, who was tied to the chair in the small kitchen. 

 

“How do I look?” He asked playfully.

She screamed against the gag, shivering and crying. Stupid, stupid girl. She could become good, really good, but she wanted to play with a man she hadn't known and now the man came out as a psychopathic serial killer, a criminal mastermind.

 

Slowly he went to her. Miss O'Sullivan wanted to turn her head, but he was faster when he grabbed her chin. She was pretty, blond and blue eyed. It reminded him of another person. A stronger person, who wouldn't try to scream. This other person would enjoy the torture. Masochist.

 

“Did you ever have something tailored by Vivienne Westwood? She is a great designer, really! Most of her stuff is a little bit crazy, but well, I love it. Do you love crazy things, darling?”

She sobbed against the gag.

He rolled his eyes. “Stop being so pathetic. It's boring. Do you think that will help you? How often did that help people, what do you think?”

Tears were running down her high cheeks.

“Let us play a game, okay? I call it _Stayin’ alive_.”  
  
Jim Moriarty was back.


	3. November 7th 2013, Bandhavgarh, Madhya Pradesh, India

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunter knows, that's not legal what he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like every morning a chapter. Thanks to nitininha, who corrected the text, to the gang and to all the other readers.

**Chapter 2: November 7** **th** **2013,** **Bandhavgarh, Madhya Pradesh, India**

He woke up with a startle. Always these dreams, the nightmares for 2 years 4 months 4 weeks and six days. It was exhausting, but still it hadn't lost anything of its horror. 

 

The scenario stuck in his head: Over and over again he found himself on this edge on this rooftop somewhere in London. He looked down at the people who were walking there like it was a normal day and for most of them it was. How could they possible know what just happened there above their heads? In this moment he always closed his eyes. Just one step and he would fly, but something held him back. An instinct, which had saved him in the night his best friend shot himself when he had gotten his retirement from the army and... and the day he had heard what happened. Not in his dreams, in reality. At this point he was turning around, walking to the corpse that lay at the ground of the rooftop. Blood was running from the brilliant head, on the lips lay a wicked smile, just like the smiles the dead man had grinned when he had been alive. 

 

It broke something in him and then he woke up, sweating and hardly breathing. Yesterday hadn't been, today wasn't, tomorrow wouldn't be. So he lay there in the dim light of the early morning, staring at the ceiling made of wood and corrugated metal until he calmed down and his heart stopped bumping too heavy. 

 

Then, finally, he stood up, took a whiz on one of the trees before he cleaned himself with curd soap and the water he had gotten last evening from a close sea, brush his teeth and put on new clothes that had dried in the warm air of the Indian November. The whole time he felt watched, but that wasn't something new. 

 

Khan, a Bengal tiger who had lost his right fore-paw in a trap of poachers and which couldn't hunt anymore because of it, lay on his favorite place directly at the trunk of a big tree. 

 

“Morning,” the human greeted the animal smiling, which just blinked lazily. 

 

The human, he called himself  the hunter , because he didn't care about his human name anymore, had found Khan when he had been just two weeks in India. Alone, although it was forbidden (the hunter had never been a guy of rules and laws), he had hiked through the Bandhavgarh National Park when he had heard the whimper of something that had sounded very much like a cat. The hunter had never been good in guessing ages, not even of humans, so he hadn't known how old the tiger he found was. He had just known that it wasn't a fully-grown animal. Still it had been dangerous. Luckily the hunter had bought a tranquilizer gun and munition for it on a black market before he had gone into the national park. He had drugged the cub, freed it from the trap and taken care of its wound. It had cost days, in which the tiger cub hadn't eaten anything of the meat the hunter had given him until it had been too hungry. And time by time he had started to trust the hunter and came back to the little clearing where the hunter had taken care of him. 

 

This clearing was also the same where now the skew-whiff cabin of the hunter stood now. He had bought the stuff in a market from a close city. It wasn't comfortable, but he had been in the army, so he was used to uncomfortable. And in fact he was so exhausted from hunting every day that he fell asleep faster than he could notice that until he woke up from his nightmares. 

 

The hunter rubbed his face to forget these thoughts before he went back into his cabin to get his rifle. He had to hunt something for Khan before he could go on his own hunt. Both hunting for Khan and himself wasn't legal, but he didn't really care. It was his job, except he didn't have an employer or earned money for his work. After his last normal job he had so much money he couldn't spend it all, even if he wanted. 

 

~Φ~

 

He lay in the grass, his breathing calm and quiet. Through the scope of his rifle he could see his preys. It was a herd of five males. All looking nervously around like they could smell the danger they were in. Someone went around the camp, but he couldn't see the hunter in his hide-out, who licked his lips before he aimed the walking one. The hunter exhaled while he pulled the trigger. 

 

“Fuck,” one of the men screamed. Another took his rifle aiming in the direction of the hunter, who shot again, faster than they understood what was going on. He was a great sniper. Fast and precise, that was the reason why the most dangerous man of London, no, of the whole world employed him years ago. Because in the end all who had to be dead were dead. Even today.   
  
The hunter let one poacher live, so he could tell other ones about him. The government caught too less to save the Bengal tigers, so the hunter had taken care of that problem. Thanks to his old job, he knew exactly how he could make bodies vanish. And he did. Sometimes he let walk one of the poachers away, so they could spread the story just like today. It was helpful, because it scared the others. 

 

A group like today had become rare, thanks to him. He even took care of their traps, throwing sticks into them, so they were triggered. When he had a bad day, days, when the old anger came up again, conquered his mind; he caught one of the motherfuckers and tortured him. In these days he was himself again, he had a name again. 

 

He shook off the thought while he walked to the camp. The survivor had left already, so the hunter could take care of the bodies. He threw them to the close Mahanadi river, which took the corpses with it while he was watching them drowning. It was hard work to bear the men to the river. Although the hunter was strong, humans weren't the lightest species on this great earth, so he was happy, but exhausted when he finished the work and went back to his own little camp. 

 

He had found the poachers accidentally while he was hunting for Khan, so he had hurried to bring the tiger a deer (also not very light) before he followed the poachers. They had been careless, their track had been easy to find and then they had built a camp with a fire.

 

_ How stupid and obvious _ _ ,  _ a voice in the hunter's head whispered. He tried to ignore it. It had been a long time ago he had fought against it.  _ You can't ignore me,  _ _ the voice sing-sang.  _ _ I'm just in your pretty head and you know it, oh no not like that! Come on, play with me, it's been a while we have played together. Do you remember? You imagined me standing on a Saint Andrew's Cross, absolutely helpless against your treatment. You enjoyed it, you loved to have the power, didn't you? Letting me feel your anger. I loved that, because I know how hard it made you to imagine how a vibrator fucked me, while saliva was running from my mouth because you gagged me. Oh, and do you remember how you fucked me? Hard and unprepared? Stop ignoring me, tiger. Tiger! Darling, honey, sweety, love, Sebby. _

The hunter struggled with himself.

_ Sebastian. Sebastian Moran, have you forgotten me? _

_ No, _ the hunter thought. It was the truth. He hadn't forgotten Jim, he had forgotten himself.


	4. 9th November 2013, Boston Massachusetts, USA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's looking for Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I forgot at the beginning of the last chapter: I'm pretty sure, it's unrealistic that Sebastian can live in the national park without being caught, let us just call it artistic freedom. Thanks goes to nitininha and the gang and to all the other readers. I hope you have fun!

**Chapter 3: 9** **th** **November 2013, Boston Massachusetts, USA**

To call this a pub was an insult for all pubs in the whole world. Drinking hole would be the better term. If Jim had another chance to get the information he needed he would never enter this... pit. He already felt dirty when he entered the room.

 

The dim light was very helpful, because it didn't let the customer see the faces of their companions or their dirty glasses. They were five. All brawn and no brain. Jim hoped he would see a specific guy, but of course he wasn't there. Maybe he searched for trouble somewhere else. 

 

When the barkeeper looked at him, his customers went very quiet. They didn't know him; they just saw a small man in an expensive suit who shouldn't be there. Not even their bosses visited this... establishment. So Jim smiled his most charming smile while he lingered to them.

 

“Can I help you?” The barkeeper snarled. His voice was dangerously low, but Jim wasn't scared. He had a gun with him, a knife and he wasn't as weak as he looked. 

“I don't think you have my kind of whiskey, darling,” Jim sing-sang before he turned his attention to the customers. 

 

They were insecure about his nerves. He could see it in the way they looked at each other before he looked at him again. Soldiers, of course they didn't know him (besides the fact that everyone believed that Jim was dead), hadn't seen him once. Even their bosses were small-time criminals in his eyes, not even they could have identified him. 

 

“I guess every one of you know the name Sebastian Moran,” Jim supposed. 

The men made eye contact nervously. Gotcha, Jim thought. 

 

After all the years, Moran was still a name in Boston's criminal networks. Of course he had worked for the famous Moriarty, a name that had been whispered in the darkness, a name that had scared the people. And Moran hadn't been an ordinary little helper of Moriarty, he had been the leader of the American network before he had gone to London to become Moriarty's right hand and bodyguard. He had been one of the rare people who had known Moriarty himself. Not to mention that everyone had been scared to be aimed by his rifle because he was an awesome sniper. 

 

Still smiling Jim asked: “So you can tell me where he should be at this time? What is his favourite pub?” 

 

Jim was sure that Sebastian had started drinking again, after Jim himself had faked his death. Poor tiger, all alone.

 

Again nervous eye contact, but then one of the guys cleared his throat. “Who wants to know about Moran?” He growled.

Jim pointed to himself. “Me. Obviously. And at the moment I'm not in the mood for your games.”

The guy laughed. 

 

The smaller man grimaced when he came to him, reaching the hand to grab his fancy suit. Jim took the hand before he twisted the wrist while he was going around the taller man. So he pinned the hand on the back of the guy in seconds. Then he pushed him against the next wall. 

 

“It's none of your business, understood?” Jim hissed. He felt the eyes of the other men in his back. It was obvious that the guy at the wall was their leader (he had spoken first) and it made them even more insecure that a little man like Jim could pin him at the next wall. “So, I'm asking again and you answer for your own good. Where is Moran?”

“I don't know, I don't know,” the soldier squeaked like a pig that Jim had stabbed.

“Don't lie to me,” he warned, pulling the hand higher, so he almost broke the arm of the pig. 

“I really don't! No one does! After Moriarty vanished he vanished too. Probably he... killed himself! That's what the rumours said.”

Jim frowned. No, Sebastian didn't commit suicide. He wouldn't have been clever enough to make it somewhere where no one would find him. Sighing, the Irish man let the other go. “Was that so difficult?”  


The guy rubbed his wrist. Jim's fingers had left red marks. Anger lay in his eyes, but he wouldn't try to attack him again. Jim had made his position as alpha animal quite clear. 

 

When he had left the drinking hole he stood outside lit himself a cigarette while he was thinking. He couldn't call Janine because Magnussen would know. No, she should still be the nice, little PA, whose dark, dark family secret Magnussen knew. Sebastian's sister wasn't an alternative either. She had fallen in love with John Watson, while Jim had been away, so she wasn't allowed to know that he was alive. Besides that Jim doubted that Sebastian had told her anything. 

 

Fortunately Jim knew someone who had Sebastian's faith. 

 

~Φ~

 

Two o'clock pm. 

 

Jim put away the tools with which he had opened the door. He stood up because he had hunkered down. In the same movement he straightened his suit before he grabbed the door latch. Quietly, he sneaked into the flat. Moonlight lightened the corridor from the window to the kitchen, so Jim didn't need to turn on the light. He closed the door not as quiet as he came in before he made his way to the living room, where he sat down on the couch and waited, sure he made enough noise to wake up the residents.

 

Slowly he walked to the window, opened it and lit himself another cigarette. Jim heard a man coming into the living room. It made him turn around. Leaning at the wall he watched the man who had a baseball bat with him to hit the housebreaker, but first he turned on the light. The man, American, 38 years old, froze. His eyes widened in shock.

 

“Hello Jack,” Jim greeted, snipping his cigarette out the window, “long time no see.”

“You... you are...”

“...not dead. Obviously.” 

 

Jack Fitzgerald dropped the bat. His pale eyes still looked shocked, his beautiful mouth was opened, his hair a mess, because he had just gotten up. 

 

“Jack, shall I call the police or is it one of my brothers?” A woman appeared behind Jack. Her blue eyes focused on the man in the living room. “No,” she whispered. 

 

~Φ~

 

“He was on your funeral!”

“That was the plan,” Jim replied calmly while he got a cup of tea from Mary Moran, no, Mary Fitzgerald. The engagement ring was vanished, this was a wedding ring. “And congratulation to you both.” 

She crossed her arms after she gave Jack his cup. Her eyes looked as angry as Sebastian's would. 

“He thought you were fucking dead! Do you know what that has done with him? That he thought you had shot yourself like -,” Jack stopped suddenly. 

Jim took a sip of his tea. American tea and not prepared like he loved it. Urgh. “...like Kevin,” he finished Jack's sentence. “I just wanna know where he is. Where does he live these days? Still in South Boston?”

Both looked at him like they couldn't believe his nerves. Mary sat down on the arm of Jack's armchair. “It has been two years,” she said quietly. 

“Well, two and a half. Almost,” Jim smiled, but the couple didn't show any reaction. He frowned. “Where is he?”

Jack shrugged. “The last time we spoke, he was in Ireland...”

“Yeah, to my funeral, but I know he isn't there anymore...”

“...on his way to the airport...”

“...to come back home?”

“...to fly to India.”

“India?” 

 

Maybe Jim had had to suppose that, but he hadn't, so he sat there watching Mary and Jack sharing a gaze before Mary cleared her throat.

 

“I don't think you should look for him,” she suggested.

The Irish man laughed. “He will be delighted to see me.”

“Like I said, it has been two years,” Jack supported his wife frowning. 

“I need him.”

“For what?”

It didn't happen often that Jim Moriarty was speechless, but for a moment he was. “He is my right hand, he is the only one who -!”

“And what have you ever done for him?” Mary broke in on him. 

“I gave him a job, perspective...” Jim let the great sex unmentioned.

Jack sighed before he explained: “When you dumped him, it broke Sebastian. He never told me... but I know that he wanted to die. You were everything for him, but he was just your toy. You are not good for him.”

“You are just jealous,” Jim snapped, although it was just a part of the truth. After all these years Jack still loved Sebastian, but he had let him go because he had known it would be the best for Sebastian. Jim otherwise couldn't let Sebastian go, he just... couldn't. He was too egoistic, too much arsehole. “You are jealous, because he loved me and not you!”

 

He jumped on his feet, knowing that he had overreacted, but damn it! How could they dare to talk with him like this?! He was Jim Moriarty and they were... they were just ordinary! 

 

“I have the information I wanted,” he pressed the words from his throat. “Thank you very much.”  
  
And so he left the little flat. 


	5. 14th November 2013, Bandhavgarh, Madhya Pradesh, India

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hot and Jim's guides are annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still unrealistic, but I hope nobody is too angry with me because of it. Thanks goes to nitininha, who corrected the text, to the gang because you are awesome and to the readers for the cute comments.

**Chapter 4: 14** **th** **November 2013, Bandhavgarh, Madhya Pradesh, India**

Jim had hoped that he would find Sebastian in Delhi or another big city, but very fast he had heard the rumors of a guy from the West who hunted tiger poachers in the Bandhavgarh National Park. According to a crippled ex-poacher (he had been tortured, Jim could see the scars on his shoulders, not to mention the lost right arm of this Indian) this _hunter_ had had an American accent. Jim had paid him, so he would shut up about these stories before he had searched for others who had still been brave enough to go into the Bandhavgarh National Park. The money he offered for that was enough to get two boys in their twenties in a village close to the national park. Unfortunately one of them was very superstitious.

 

Before they entered the national Park through a secret way, the poachers used (both boys' fathers had been poachers and they had taken them with them before the American man had appeared), he said:  
  
“It's not a good idea, sir. The tiger man is dangerous. They say he is the ghost of a killed tiger.” And from that moment he became more and more antsy.

After a while it was too much for Jim. “Okay, enough!” He hissed. The boy looked scared at the man in the suit, who had given him the money. “Go, your friend here will be help enough!”

Nodding he vanished. The other boy was a quiet boy, serious, but quiet. At least he wasn't scared by ghosts.

 

After 30 more minutes, in which mosquitoes decided that Jim had delicious blood, the boy stopped, signing Jim to be quiet, while he looked for tracks. Jim looked over his shoulder when he hunkered down. He didn't have to be a genius to see that these tracks came from army boots.

 

Of course Sebastian still had them. While he had worked for Jim, he had worn them when he had had to make a good impression or when their way had led into a forest. Sometimes he had laughed about Jim, who complained about the mud on his shoes. Luckily the winter was the driest season in this area, so mud wasn't a problem at the moment. Just the mosquitoes and the heat... Jim couldn't wait to be back somewhere where the weather and the insects were normal. It was so exhausting, but finally he saw something that shouldn't be there.

 

A cabin, if you wanted to be nice and call it that. Boards with ceiling was a better term, Jim thought, then he stepped closer. Now the boy started to puzzle.

 

“He is really dangerous.”

Jim rolled with his eyes. “I know, he worked for me.”

“So... you know him?” The Indian accent was annoying. “Why... does he kill people?”

“Because this... is his nature as it is mine.”

 

In the same movement Jim turned around and pulled out his gun before he aimed the boy between the eyes and shot. He hadn't used a silencer, so Sebastian would have heard the shot. Ignoring the corpse he turned around again to go to the cabin. The gun was put under his suit jacket while he moved through the bush. He just entered the clearance when he heard a deep growl.

 

Right from him moved a tiger. His tail jerked, the teeth were bared. They were yellow and looked dangerous. The golden eyes were focused on Jim, following him everywhere. It was a pretty animal when you forgot the not existing right fore-paw. The fur was white and golden and black.

 

Jim wasn't suicidal enough to ignore the warning the tiger gave him, so he hunkered down a little bit, so he didn't seem so frightening anymore. It was a strange feeling. He was never an animal person, except when it had been about the anatomy. As a child he had killed and opened animals very often, but it had been small animals, birds, cats, once or twice a dog. The tiger however could kill him, although he had lost his right fore-paw. No, Jim wouldn't risk it.

 

Then he heard the click of releasing the safety of a gun. “In your place I wouldn't move.”

Jim nodded, the unnatural position made his legs shaking.

“Do you have any weapons?”

He nodded again.

“Pull them out,” Sebastian commanded.

 

Never before he had talked with Jim in this tone. Of course not, Jim was his boss not the other way around, but now it seemed like Sebastian hadn't identified Jim yet, so he let out his inner colonel. It was kind of sexy, so Jim followed the order. He pulled out his gun from the holster at his chest and the knife in his pocket.

 

“Put it on the ground and push them in Khan's direction.”

Jim couldn't help himself. He laughed. “Khan? You called your tiger Khan, Sebby?”

A few minutes it was quiet. Just the wind rustled in the trees. “W-What?”

“Can I move?” Jim asked, knowing that Sebastian still aimed him with his rifle.

“N...No, you can't!” The man behind Jim started to breath heavily. “That's... no, no! I told you, you should leave me alone! You... are... not real... No, you are not, you can't!”

“Sebastian,” Jim said softly and calm, although his heart was bumping too fast. He never realised that Sebastian could go mad while he was away. “Your tiger is reacting on me, so I must be real.”

Again silence.

Jim sat still not saying a word.

Sebastian cleared his throat before he ordered: “Push the weapons to Khan.”

This time Jim followed his words, pushing the weapons away from his body to the tiger, watching him, so he couldn't bite the Irish man. Then he wanted to turn around but Sebastian told him:

“No.”

So he was still hunkering there, listening to Sebastian who was still breathing heavily.

“I should kill you,” he said after a while.

“I agree,” Jim replied slightly smiling.

The laugher Sebastian laughed sounded more like a desperate mixture from laugher and crying. “Khan... it's... It's okay, boy. Come here.”

The tiger looked a last time at Jim, but he also followed Sebastian's order.

“Get up, Jim, yes. Turn around.”

Jim did.

 

Sebastian's hair was brighter than the last time they had seen each other. The sun bleached it and a few grey strains were in it. His skin was tan, but his teeth were still white and his eyes like blue fire. The sleeveless shirt was sweaty, but... it looked sexy.

 

Jim wanted to go to him to kiss him roughly, because it had been so long, so fucking long! But the tiger. He was still watching Jim, who felt insecure in front of a predator like the tiger, though the tiger had lost a paw.

 

“Can we talk? Inside maybe?” Jim asked, pointing at the... _cabin_ _._

Sebastian rolled his eyes, patting Khan's head. “Yes.” His voice sounded croaky like he hadn't used it for a while.

Jim followed him into the cabin.

“Kneel,” Sebastian ordered, after he had closed the mosquito net that hang in front of the door.


	6. November 14th 2013, Bandhavgarh, Madhya Pradesh, India

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can see your erection from here. Now kneel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks goes to nitininha, the gang and all the other readers. Have fun!

**Chapter 5: November 14** **th** **2013, Bandhavgarh, Madhya Pradesh, India**

“What?” Jim asked irritated.

“You understood me. Kneel.”

“No.”

“I can see your erection from here. Now kneel.”

 

Jim still didn't react so Sebastian went to him, grabbing his hair. The smaller man wanted to step back, but Sebastian was faster, Jim wanted to fight against the hand in his hair, but Sebastian was stronger. Then the ex-soldier pressed his ex-boss to the ground.

 

“I said, kneel,” he repeated hissing.

 

It was beautiful to see Jim sitting on the dirty ground, the lips parted, the eyes widened in shock. Jim hadn't thought it would go this way. Of course not. He had thought he could come back after two years and almost five moths and everything would be the same. But it wasn't the same, was it? No, not after all this time, not after Sebastian had seen Jim's reaction to his orders. Suddenly he had the power over Jim, not the other way around. He couldn't say that was a bad thing. Dozens of nights before he had imagined that.

 

With his thumb he touched the skin under Jim's lips that opened even more automatically. The black eyes were like black holes, like Jim's whole personality. Dark and consuming without a chance to escape alive.

 

Sebastian wasn't surprised that he felt very warm while he was looking into Jim's eyes. He had known it for so long and he was so tired of denying it. Jim was the only person he could fall in love with, the only person he had fallen in love with and the only person he would fall in love with ever and ever again, until he was dead and cold. But still Jim had to be punished.

 

“First you dumped me – no, I don't wanna hear excuses, James!” The full name felt strange in Sebastian's mouth but he didn't stop. “You left me alone in America. I was scared because I knew what you were capable of doing, that you... that you were suicidal and that nobody except me knew it and even if they did, they would never help you. I knew that something bad would happen and then you broke into the Tower, the Bank of England and the Pentonville Prison! Do you know that I wanted to end my life because I couldn't bear it? Do you, Jim? But the worst... the worst was that you let me believe that you were dead. I was on your funeral, James! I... I failed to protect you.”

 

Jim was still staring at him. His eyes didn't show any emotion, but he took Sebastian's wrist softly before he led his hand to his own cheek. Sebastian stroked him. The pale skin felt so real under his fingers and for a moment he thought he would cry, but he didn't.

 

“You have to be punished for let me feeling like that, James.”

The smaller man smiled weakly. “Yeah, I know.”

 

And then he opened Sebastian's zip, pulling the trousers down to the ankles. Soft, little fingers touched Sebastian's calves, his thighs, before they went higher to the underwear.

 

“Still my tiger,” Jim mumbled giggling and Sebastian felt how he blushed.

 

He was wearing dark blue underwear with a stylized silver tiger on it. Jim had loved this underwear and he looked like it didn't stop. With a naughty look to Sebastian he licked his own lips before he leaned forward. He didn't removed Sebastian's underwear, which soaked Jim's warm saliva. Sebastian couldn't help himself, but moan. Through the fabric he felt Jim's long tongue. His hands went back in Jim's hair, more careful now. After every heartbeat Sebastian's chest lifted and lowered faster than before while he became hard thanks to Jim's warm wet mouth. Fuck. That was too good. He wanted more. More of Jim. More. More. More. For a moment he felt like an addict and probably that was what he was. Addicted. Addicted to Jim.

 

He took Jim by the shoulders, pushed him a little bit away from him. The eyes of the little Irish man were even darker now, the pupils wide. Sebastian swallowed when he stepped out of his trousers, took off the shoes. Jim's eyes followed him. They even still looked at him when he grabbed his shoulders again to bring him to the mattress. The criminal mastermind didn't say a word, but lay down spreading his legs for Sebastian.

 

Sebastian realized what he was going to do. His hands started to shake, but still he wouldn't stop as long as Jim wouldn't stop him. So he sat down between Jim's legs. Slowly he leaned forward until his lips met Jim's. For a second he thought they would just made the simplest contact that was possible, but then Jim bit in Sebastian's lower lip and suddenly the kiss became hungrily, desperately and all tongue and teeth. The ex-soldier rocked his hips against Jim's and both of them were so hard and hot and fucking horny. Jim grabbed Sebastian's hip to press their bodies closer together, his fingers dig in Sebastian's skin, while his right hand ran between their bodies down to Jim's waistline. But the smaller man had other plans. He rolled over, turned Sebastian and pinned him on the mattress.

 

Jim smiled creepily. “Did you think I would let you fuck me, tiger? Without any rules?”

Sebastian moaned frustrated, but Jim didn't react on it.

“I want to get fucked dry and unprepared, do you hear me, babe? And I wanna ride you, milk you until you can't think properly anymore.”

Instead of an answer Sebastian rocked their hips against each other again.

Jim's laugher changed into a moaning. “Not so fast, tiger. First we have to get undressed.” They exchanged a grin.

 

Then Jim grabbed Sebastian's shirt while the soldier unbuttoned his, but he got impatient so he ripped it off knowing Jim would be mad with him after the sex. But at the moment... At the moment he wanted him naked and sweating. The trousers meanwhile were taken off by Jim himself, so they both were just in underwear. Again they kissed passionately, rocking their hips together, feeling how hard they were.

 

Sebastian knew that it was just for the moment. He knew, when they would be back in London everything would be like it had been. Jim would dominate him in every thinkable aspect of his life. When Jim would be angry, he would let out his anger on Sebastian. Anyway Sebastian knew that he would go with Jim. He would follow Jim everywhere.

 

Said one grabbed Sebastian's underwear's waistband now, pulling it down, but Jim didn't take it off. He stopped at Sebastian's thighs. His own was taken off by Sebastian, while he stood up, so the sniper could pull it down the white legs. Finally they were undressed and Jim sat down again directly on Sebastian's erected dick. Both sighed when Sebastian's penis pressed against Jim's hole, just a second, before Jim got up again.

 

Sebastian felt the insecurity of his boss and took his face between his hands. It looked so small beside them, the black eyes so big that Jim almost looked like a child. A dangerous, mental child, but still a child.

 

“Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

 

Jim could be so stubborn, but Sebastian didn't let him go, he was still watching him when he sank down again. He frowned and it couldn't be nice, but he seemed like he forbade himself to give up. So Jim lowered himself on Sebastian's dick, not making a sound, while said sniper breathed heavily, trying not to grab Jim's hip to pull him down.

 

Finally it seemed like it was more comfortable for Jim. He sighed in relief, before he moved slowly. It wasn't the rough, hard sex, they had before Jim had dumped Sebastian, but it was also nice and the first time Sebastian fucked Jim, not the opposite.

 

Softly Sebastian lay his finger on Jim's hip while the other one lay his own on Sebastian's chest before the left one wandered to Sebastian's flank, to the tiger tattoo.

 

Sebastian whispered: “I missed you.”

Jim didn't reply, he just smiled before he kissed Sebastian as soft as they fucked.

 

He was tight and hot and Sebastian loved that. Their movements got faster. Jim's lips parted again. Sebastian had almost forgotten how cute Jim could be when he wasn't an asshole, but then his eyes caught something. The chain around Jim's neck, the dog tags moved against his chest whenever he moved, letting Sebastian deeper into him. Sebastian knew this chain, these dog tags. It made him smile slightly and he sat up to kiss Jim passionately. They both moaned in the kiss. Jim pressed his body closer to Sebastian's. Sebastian's arms wrapped around the smaller man, who moved faster and faster and Sebastian got deeper and deeper and both of them were moaning in the kiss. From this moment it just took three more movements. Jim's ass tightened around Sebastian, while he was feeling the sperm between them. It made him come too.

 

And then they lay down. Jim on Sebastian's chest. In silence.


	7. November 15th 2013, Bandhavgarh, Madhya Pradesh, India

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exceptionally this is a nice awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I shouldn't advertise myself, but I just posted another story with the title "Tales from another broken home". Like in "Let's paint the world red" Sebastian and Jim are teens, but with the difference that they grow up in the same city (Belfast). So if you want check it out. The URL is: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1672784/chapters/3551921   
> Now to the obligatory acknowledgement: Thanks to the brilliant nitininha for correcting everything even when I spam her with chapters, the gang who made me addictive to chat again and of course all readers. To get comments and kudos is the nicest thing in my days.

**Chapter 6: November 15** **th** **2013, Bandhavgarh, Madhya Pradesh, India**

Sebastian woke up. Slowly, comfortable. No nightmares... He wrapped an arm around the smaller body next to him, not ready to open his eyes to see he had gone mad, that Jim wasn't there at all. A dry sob fought to come out, but with a little bit of will and fighting back, it dropped down. Instead Sebastian hid his face on the strong neck of his imaginary Jim, breathed his smell. It shouldn't feel so real when their bare legs linked. 

 

Imaginary Jim looked at him, he could feel it. And when he opened his mouth: “Open your eyes, tiger.”  
Sebastian shook his head.

“Tiger, that wasn't a request, that was an order.” A strong hand grabbed Sebastian's chin, so he opened his eyes, still scared that Jim would vanish. But Jim was still there. Alive.

The ex-soldier breathed slowly, controlled, looking into the black eyes that calmed him. 

 

He knew that Jim was still pure poison, but he took everything that Jim could give him. Others would think that was stupid and crazy and probably it was, but he couldn't help himself. Addiction, suicidal thoughts, anger and the wish for destruction made him Jim's creature. There was no denial, just the bitter truth. 

 

Jim leaned forward to kiss Sebastian. The ex-soldier replied the kiss. Like always when they kissed it was angry and hungry and full of passion. Their bodies moved against each other. The dried sperm between them, on Sebastian, on Jim, between Jim legs... Holy mother of God, Sebastian thought when he realized that he had fucked Jim yesterday. Well, in fact Jim had let him fuck him, but still. It was new with Jim, different. 

 

“I need you,” Jim whispered, but he didn't mean it in a romantic or sexual way. Sebastian could hear it. It was business talk in bed. It was Jim. Jim never forgot the work.

Sebastian had thought he would be mad, when Jim started to talk about work, but he didn't, because it was okay. He would do anything for Jim. 

“Who shall I kill?” He asked before he kissed his boss again. 

Jim laughed in the kiss. Music in Sebastian's ears. 

 

Suddenly he sat on the sniper, black, dead eyes staring at the ex-soldier, whose eyes followed pale skin on well-defined muscles. It seemed like Jim had become stronger while he had been away. Not in the mental way. Sebastian was sure Jim was still suicidal, still bored with life. But the muscles in his arms. The sniper couldn't resist touching them.

 

“You know, things have changed,” he said into the kiss.

His boss answered: “Of course, I'll find a way to get your tiger cub back home.”

“We don't have a home anymore. We can't go back to London as long as you are...”

“...dead?” Jim giggled rocking his hip against Sebastian's, which pressed the air out of taller man’s lungs. “You are right,” he said between the kisses, “we can't go to London, can't risk that anyone sees me... and that leads me to your new job.”

It was too hot there, Sebastian couldn't concentrate. His hand wandered from Jim's chest down to his stomach and then to the hard penis.

“You aren't listening,” Jim sing-sang.

Sebastian laughed. “Sorry, I'm a little bit distracted, boss.”

Jim grinned before he grabbed Sebastian's wrist to pin the tiger down at the mattress. “So you wanna fuck?”

Jim’s erection between them told Sebastian his boss also wanted it, but he bit on his lower lip so he wouldn't say it. Jim could be furious.

“I should punish you for your cheekiness...”

“You have no toy with you, do you?” 

“Clever, tiger,” Jim laughed, then he kissed Sebastian again. “But I could fuck you.”

“Would that really be punishment or more fun for both of us?”

“God, I missed your cockiness.”  


It didn't happen often that Jim spoke out such things. In fact it had never happened before, so for a moment they stared at each other. Sebastian speechless, because... well... Jim had missed him, although he wasn't a challenge or as clever as Sherlock Holmes (he wasn't naive enough to believe that Jim would drop Holmes for him, though he had missed him). Still it made Sebastian happy in a way it shouldn't. 

 

_ Sentiments _ _ ,  _ whispered Jim's voice in his head. 

 

Jim, of course, covered up the situation with a smile and with touching Sebastian's tattoo at the flank. His lips were swollen from kissing, but his skin didn't blush. Sebastian wondered if his boss had control over body reactions like that. So he grabbed the hand that stroked his tattoo, the sensitive skin around it. Pointer and middle finger wrap around the wrist and then he rocked his hip against Jim, watching in the eyes. No reaction. The pupils were normal big, the pulse pressed constantly against Sebastian's fingers. 

 

With a soft movement Jim freed his hand. “Come on, tiger, I wanna fuck you.” 

Sebastian needed a moment to understand that he was staring at Jim like he was an alien. “Yes,” he replied slowly before he said faster: “Yeah, yeah of course, sir.” He wanted to spread his legs, but Jim stopped him.

“Roll on your stomach,” Jim purred. 

For a moment Sebastian struggled, but then Jim got up, and he rolled on his stomach. 

 

A cool hand lay down on his shoulder, directly above his other tattoo. It looked like something had ripped the skin there. Under the ripped skin you could see the fur of the tiger, very realistic. There where the ripped skin started Jim dug his nails into Sebastian's shoulder, who winced in pain. He breathed through the nose, because he clenched the jaw not to scream. His fingers dug in the pillow directly under him. 

 

“Did you miss that, too, tiger?” He felt the warm breath of Jim on his ear. “Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?”

“Oh god, yes!” Sebastian almost cried out. 

 

And yes, he missed the pain, the torture. He missed Jim's cock between his ass cheeks, teasing him by rubbing it between them, but without using Sebastian's fuck hole, while Sebastian's erection pressed against the mattress. The only thing that made him feel so alive was killing people and with Jim he could have both. Said one’s second hand grabbed his left hand, pushing it too hard. Sebastian moaned, pressing his fucking ass against Jim. 

 

“Fuck me, please, daddy, fuck me.”  
  
And Jim did without any preparation. When Sebastian felt the cock in him finally it hurt. It hurt so fucking much and at the same time it was relief. 

 

Jim was really back and they would be themselves again.


	8. 20th November 2013, Delhi, India

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I have nothing more to say to this chapter: Thanks to nitininha, the gang (what hopefully grows now) and all the readers. I hope you all have fun with this chapter.

**Chapter 7: 20** **th** **November 2013, Delhi, India**

Although he had showered, Sebastian still looked wild. His hair and his beard were trimmed yesterday, but especially the beard was too long for Jim's taste. He loved Sebastian with a five o'clock shadow, although... he could dig with the new style, too. The way Sebastian's eyes glowed like blue fire in contrast to his tan skin, also the bright strains in his hair (not the grey ones, the still blond ones) made him look younger, wilder. The crinkles around his eyes were deeper than two years ago, but probably he thought the same about Jim's. 

 

Two cups with masala chai, a mix of black tea, milk and mix herbs stood between them on the table. Now and then they took a sip while they were listening to the airport, the life around them. It had to be very noisy for Sebastian after all this time in the jungle. And actually he sat straighter than the last time they had been at an airport together. It seemed like he would see everything. The perfect bodyguard.

 

Jim could be less attentive when Sebastian was around, and that allowed him to look at his dear tiger. 

 

Today he wore a simple white, but light shirt, whose sleeves just covered the upper half of Sebastian's strong forearm. His right leg lay on the knee of the other one and he sat so far away from the table that Jim could see his pants without leaning forward. They were also white and light and Jim had wanted to buy new ones, because Sebastian would freeze in America, but the sniper refused it. 

 

“So, where are we going now? And what will be my new job?” Sebastian asked, his voice still croaky from the long time he had barely spoken.

 

In the last days they hadn't had the time for this talk. Jim had prepared everything for their flight, especially because of Khan. Officially the male tiger would be a present for the zoo of Boston, but on his way from the airport to the zoo, he would vanish. As long as it hadn't been organised, Sebastian had waited in the jungle. But yesterday he finally came to Delhi, where Jim arranged a barber who had cut Sebastian's hair and trimmed his beard, so he looked like a human again. And then they had had sex. 

 

“Boston. You already have contacts there, so it won't be so hard to build a new network there. Your network officially. I'll be still dead.”

“I'm the boss now?” Cockiness lay in Sebastian's eyes.

“Don't you dare to exploit that, in our house I'm still the boss.”

Something in Jim's word changed Sebastian. He frowned, straightened even more. “Our?”

“Yeah, of course -”

Sebastian waved aside. “You really... you dumped me, Jim,” he hissed.

Jim blinked at him. “Yes, but it was just -”

“You dumped me,” Sebastian broke in on him, “and now everything shall go how it was? No, you have to make amends for that.”

“What do you think I should do? Wear a maiden costume? I was two years exiled, can you imagine with what stupid people I had to socialise?! I did suffer for my decision I-”

“I thought you were dead, Jim.” Sebastian folded his arms. His blue eyes like blue flames laying on Jim. “And... I wanna know why you are here.”

“Because I need you, you know that, Sebastian.”

“I couldn't sleep last night.”

“Hm? And?”

“I watched television while you were asleep.”

“You are talking about Sherlock.”

“We are talking about Sherlock. We are always talking about Sherlock.”

“Yeah, because you are so fucking jealous.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I love you,” the words came out of his mouth like it was nothing. It scared the shit out of Jim, but he didn't show anything. “And I know what effect Sherlock has on you. Of course I'm jealous. Of course I'm scared to lose you. Again.”

“We shouldn't talk about this here.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw. Jim could see how the muscles move. “Of course not.”

“Let us talk about your job instead.”

“Hm,” Sebastian made, but it didn't sound happy. 

“You should maybe try to be less yourself...”

“...and be more you?”

“Well... yeah.”

The sniper laughed. “Be careful what are you wishing for.” He still didn't sound happy.

“Sebby...”

“No, I... I'll be angry with you for a while. That doesn't mean I don't want sex, but... we don't start where we stopped, not after everything you have done, Jim.” 

 

Jim leaned back, taking a sip of his chai. The hot liquid was sweet and tasted a little bit like cinnamon. Sebastian did the same, avoiding eye contact. He really needed time. Maybe Jim should prepare an extra room for him, where he could sleep. He didn't like the idea, but probably it would be the best.

 

“We should go now,” Jim said with a look at his watch. 

Sebastian nodded and drank the rest of his tea before he got up. “What will you play?” He asked, while they walked slowly to their terminal.

“Hm?” Jim made like he didn't understand him.

“I know you. You won't play housewife while I'm doing your job.” The sniper's voice was softer again. He even gave Jim a little smile. For a moment Jim could see the white teeth, straight like a military cemetery. It gave Sebastian's face something dangerous, this smile. Like a shark.

“I could play your clerk,” Jim replied shrugging. 

Sebastian laughed softly. “So I'll be the boss.”

“Don't think that.”

“You'll be my clerk...”

“Moran.”

“...and I'll be your boss...”

“Serioulsy...”  


Suddenly Sebastian grabbed Jim's tie. In a dominating gesture (no, it didn't make Jim's knees weak!) he pulled the smaller man at his chest. Jim could feel the deprecatory gazes in his back when their lips crushed against each other. Yeah, they didn't meet. They crushed, pressing against each other, before a soft tongue licked about Jim's lip. He shouldn't enjoy it that way, but anyway he grabbed Sebastian's right sleeve, pressing his own body against the bigger one. Fingers dug in his covered ass. Another dominating gesture and suddenly Jim understood that he wouldn't just be Sebastian's clerk for the next months. He would also be his pet in the society. 

 

A part of him wanted that, oh God, wanted Sebastian so bad around him, in him, dominating him, but another told him that he shouldn't allow that, that it would undermine his authority, but why? Why couldn't he fight back then?


	9. November 24th 2013, Boston, Massachusetts, USA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boston is cold. At least for Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The experience Sebastian makes in this chapter in fact a experience my brother made, when he came back from Mali after 6 months (not all of course, just a part of it). So when someone wants to complain that it's totally unrealistic, no, it's not. And yes, Michael Fassbender is my headcanon Sebastian, so I couldn't resist to make a joke.  
> Thanks goes to nitininha as always, to the gang and to all other readers, because you make me so happy.

**Chapter 8: November 24** **th** **2013, Boston, Massachusetts, USA**

It was fucking freezing. It was so fucking cold that Sebastian believed Jim or the television or the newspaper or the thermometer. All say that it was 41 degrees Fahrenheit, five degree Celsius. No, that couldn't be true! He wrapped the warm duvet as close around his body as possible when Jim came in with a sadistic smile on his lips.

 

“Aw, poor tiger, does India still have an effect on you?” The criminal mastermind and just back from the dead purred.

Sebastian glared as angry as he could while Jim came in.

“Shall I warm you?”

“Piss off.”

“I take that as a yes.” Of course he did.

 

He came to the bed in which Sebastian lay under two blankets, a thin one and the duvet. Jim lifted both and the cold air that met Sebastian's naked legs gave the ex-soldier goosebumps. For a moment Sebastian believed Jim would come to him extra slow, but in fact his boss moved very fast. Not a minute later they lay next to each other and the blankets were down again. Jim was wearing one of his pajamas although it was round about two o'clock pm, but Sebastian didn't complain when he felt the soft fabric against his bare leg and arms.

 

Jim lay very close. Closer than he had done years before. Sebastian thought for a moment; then he put his arm around Jim's shoulders. The smaller man leaned at him, seemed to relax.

 

After they had come back from India, Sebastian was knocked out from the jet lag, then he had eaten his first burger in years, well... his first meat in years. It had given him the shits, but after two days he was okay again. Now he was just freezing though the blankets and Jim was very warm.

 

“What are you watching?” Jim asked pointing at the television.

“Movie,” Sebastian mumbled, “Prometheus. Do you know Alien?”

Jim nodded abstractedly. “Who's this?”

His sniper pulled him closer, Jim didn't fight against it. “David, he is an android who should help the science team.”

“He looks hot.”

“I'm hotter,” Sebastian played sulking.

His boss laughed. “No, at the moment you are fucking cool tiger! Also, I'm sure this David-boy wouldn't shoot people for me.”

“Well, I wouldn't be that sure...”

Jim laughed again and it sent shivers down Sebastian's spine. Then he rolled over Sebastian. The blankets lifted and Sebastian felt cold again, but the way Jim looked at him, made him forget that. His boss' pupils seemed gigantic, made the eyes even darker. Sebastian opened the mouth, but then he had forgotten what he wanted to say. Jim leaned forwards. His tongue slipped in Sebastian's opened mouth. Sebastian replied the kiss, wrapping his arms around Jim's waist, who put his hands in Sebastian's neck.

 

“Are you better today, babe?” Jim asked softly against Sebastian's lips.

“Hmm,” the sniper hummed positively.

“Good, because we haven't had sex in a while.”

“I know.” Sebastian grinned. “I hope David didn't give you idea.”

“Oh, jealous?”

“I'm not allowed to be jealous, am I?”

“Hmm, exceptionally.”

 

Sebastian laughed before he kissed Jim again, rocking their hips against each other. Jim sighed into the kiss, a cute little sound. After all he could be cute, very cute indeed. His sniper grabbed his face, but it seemed like Jim had waited on this chance. He grabbed Sebastian's wrists, pint them down at the pillow above Sebastian's head. The ex-soldier knew he shouldn't fight back and so he didn't. From his pajama trousers Jim pulled out handcuffs, which he used to handcuff Sebastian at the bed.   
  
It was cold to have the naked arms out of the blanket and Sebastian couldn't also see the television, because Jim was still sitting on him. Well, the last thing wasn't a problem at all. Again the two men kissed, Sebastian stretched a little bit for it, so he felt a sweet pain in his wrists. Jim bit in his lower lip and suddenly it hurt too. Sebastian tasted blood, but it just made him harder. He wanted to rock his hip against Jim's but his boss stopped him with putting a hand on his stomach. Sometimes it was very easy to forget the power Jim had on him.

 

“Open your mouth.”

 

Sebastian followed the order, watching Jim, who took off his pajama trousers. The Irish man didn't wear any underwear, so his erected penis wasn't hid by anything else. The taller man felt that his mouth went dry, but he opened it anyway.

 

“Good boy,” Jim commended before he climbed down from Sebastian and left the room. Sebastian saw his naked ass and his cock jerked just from imagining fucking the hole in it until Jim begged. He didn't have to wait long, but he started to get cold again when Jim stood in the door again. In his hand he had a... well... big vibrator. He turned it on and the buzzing sound made Sebastian's legs feel weak. Luckily he lay.

 

Jim climbed back into the bed, under the blankets, where he took of Sebastian's underwear. The dark blue with the tiger emblem. With his small and today surprisingly gentle hands, he spread Sebastian's legs. The tiger let him, knowing that he would be fucked by a vibrator very soon and yes... that was a great thought at the moment. At the same time he kept the mouth opened knowing Jim hadn't allowed him to close it again.

 

Grinning Jim turned the vibrator off again, before he put it without any preparation or lube into Sebastian. The sniper moaned without closing his mouth.

 

“Yeah, that's my tiger,” Jim said softly before he turned on the vibrator, pushing it deeper into Sebastian who moaned again.

 

Then he crouched down above Sebastian's throat, but didn't really sit down. Painfully slowly, he pushed his penis into Sebastian's mouth. Automatically the sniper started to suck and lick, to bite a little bit, just a little bit, just a little bit pressure...

 

“Sometimes you are such a slut, darling.”  
  
And, God, yes, sometimes Sebastian was a slut, but at least he was Jim's slut.


	10. 1st December 2013, Boston, Massachusetts, USA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a good thing when you can share the joy of your work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit homophobia in this chapter, but anyway. Thanks to nitininha for correcting the text, to the gang because they are still awesome and because we become more and more (mormor... I should stop with this joke) and to all the readers. And because we love new *coughs* victims *coughs* addicts *coughs* friends. Yeah... friends is the right word, you can find us under the URL http://us14.chatzy.com/43553196195395 or just google for mormor chatroom.

**Chapter 9: 1** **st** **December 2013, Boston, Massachusetts, USA**

Sebastian sat on the sofa, Khan's head on his lap. The tiger had closed his eyes, but when Jim entered the room, he saw how the ears jerked. Khan was awake, so Jim let a respectful distance between himself and Sebastian. 

 

“It's time, tiger.”

Sebastian sighed, pushing Khan's head away from his lap. “It’s okay, Khan,” he said calmly to the animal. When you watched the two you could almost forget how deadly both of them could be. They looked too domestic. 

 

The sniper got up, his movement fast and elegant like the day he and Jim had met for the first time. Just for a moment, the arm from the taller man wrapped around Jim's waist before dry lips pressed on his forehead. It was a dominating gesture and Jim would complain about it if it didn't fit their roles for the day. 

 

Today they had an appointment with the boss from the Russians. That meant Sebastian had to give off an air of power. In his white undershirt and the dark blue underwear, he didn't seem as powerful as he had to, but fortunately they had a solution for this problem. Yesterday Sebastian's first set of suits came in. Jim had engaged the best tailor of Boston (he had preferred Vivienne Westwood, but lovely Vivienne shouldn't know that he was alive). At least the result was more than satisfying, Jim thought, when he put on his own cheaper suit, watching Sebastian. White expensive fabric hid the strong shoulders and the tattoo at the shoulder blade. A black waistcoat, black jacket and pants in the same colour. Sebastian didn’t have to do anything to his hair, it was short enough now. Military short. It made his face even manlier. Jim liked it. He also liked the details of the outfit. A black coat with black fur lining. Indeed it looked Russian, but it looked good on Sebastian. 

 

“If I had known how good you looked in suits, I would have bought you earlier.”

Sebastian laughed. “You knew how good I looked in suits, baby. You remember? When I played you?”

Jim smiled thoughtfully. “I always remember, unfortunately I also know how stubborn you are with your clothes.”

“Not at the moment.”

“At the moment you are not yourself.”

“True.” 

 

~Φ~

 

Jim looked nervously from the Russian boss to his all-brawn-no-brain bodyguards. Of course he was calm inside. A guy Jim had information about and who also worked as a bodyguard for Dmitri, the boss, had given him the most important information about his boss and his office. Not that Jim couldn't see the smoothed crinkles in Dmitri's forehead; of course he saw them and the little red points. Botox. The blunt wedding ring at his right hand was at least ten years old. Affair, obviously. 

 

The information about the office had been more interesting for Sebastian, who looked for every weapon he could find. On the desk that he and Dmitri sat there was a paper knife. Jim entered the room after Sebastian, but he was sure his tiger had seen it. That was one reason why Jim preferred old factory buildings over official offices. Too many potential weapons. And because it was more dramatic. 

 

“So you are back in the United States, Mr Moran,” Dmitri commented in his Russian accent. 

Jim couldn't see it, but he heard the smile in Sebastian voice when he said: “Obviously.” 

“Who's your new friend there?”

Sebastian turned his head, his eyes laid on Jim for a moment, who blushed. He knew how to control these body functions. “My clerk and... well...” The ex-soldier laughed. “You know...”

“You are gay?”

“Are we discussing my sexuality suddenly? I'm here for business.”

“Well, I don't make deals with faggots.”

Suddenly the room felt colder than it actually was. “What did you call me?” Sebastian would never ever use this voice against Jim, but that didn't mean that it didn't send shivers down Jim's spine. A little bit lust, a little bit fear, a little bit knowing what would happen. 

Dmitri was too stupid to notice it. “I said,” he hissed, “I don't make deals with  _ faggots _ .”

 

Sebastian grabbed the paper knife, stabbed into Dmitri's hand in seconds before he pulled out the gun at his waist to aim the left of the bodyguards behind Jim. Everything went so fast that the bodyguards couldn't even react. Jim's stomach tickled strangely.

 

With his left hand, Sebastian brushed his hair back, more because of the habit than it was really necessary, because it was so short. “So, I have videos of you and your... girlfriend or whatever you call her.”

If it had been possible, Dmitri would have gone even paler. “My wife didn't care,” he tried.

Jim heard Sebastian laughing. “The photos aren't for your wife, they are for your employees... I mean, you... begging for more, hmm, delicious. And how she fucks you with -”

“Stop!” With a move of his hand Dmitri sent his men out. “Yours too.”

“He knows already.”

Jim nodded.

“What do you want?” Dmitri sounded breathless. 

“That's what I wanted to hear.” Sebastian smiled, Jim could hear it again. “You'll tell everyone that I'm back and I had learned from Moriarty. I could make you very rich.” He gave Dmitri his card. “Call me whenever you want me. I'll be happy to consult you.” 

 

The ex-soldier stood up, not waiting for an answer. When he turned around to Jim, the Irish man could see the wicked smile on his lips. 

 

“Come, baby, job is done.” With that, Sebastian Moran left the room, Jim followed him.

 

~Φ~

 

They had just come home, Sebastian was loosening his tie already, but Jim stepped to him, laying a hand on his chest.

  
“I really like that suit,” he purred.

Sebastian grinned like a shark. “I know,” he answered in a low voice, not dangerous, just low, “Did you like how I managed that?”

“Very.”

 

Jim grabbed Sebastian's tie, pulling him down to him. They kissed open mouthed, roughly with teeth and tongue. In a possessive gesture Sebastian pulled Jim closer. And Jim knew he shouldn't allow it, but he did. Automatically, he dug his fingers in the expensive fabric of Sebastian's suit. Not until he felt the wall in his back, did he realize that Sebastian had pushed him against it. Their bodies pressed against each other. 

 

“I want to fuck you here,” Sebastian's voice was croaky. 

“Stop talking, chatter.”  


Sebastian laughed against Jim's lips while grabbing his ass, lifting the smaller body, so Jim sat more or less on his hip. A voice in the back of his mind yelled at the genius that he should be scared, that Sebastian could let him fall, but Jim didn't listen to it when Sebastian's white teeth dug in the sensitive skin of his neck. 

 

Their hips rocked against each other, Sebastian already hard, while Jim needed more. The sniper seemed like he noticed it too, so he stabilized Jim with his legs a little bit, freed one of his hand and pressed it in Jim's crotch. The smaller man gasped. 

 

“I should kill you for trying to fuck me,” he mumbled under his breath.

Sebastian laughed, kissed him just for a few seconds before he answered: “Lucky me then that you still need me.”

“God help me.”

Sebastian's hand tightened about Jim's swelling penis, but then he let him alone again. “Let us go to the bedroom...”

“I thought you wanted to fuck me here?”

“Yeah, but you little virgin need lube.”

“I'm not a virgin,” Jim growled.

“Almost,” Sebastian grinned before he carried Jim to the stairs that led to the first floor, where their bedroom was. 

 

Jim wanted to complain, but Sebastian held him surprisingly safe. Even when he took the stairs, he wasn't insecure for a moment. One hand lay now under Jim's butt while the other held his back. Like Sebastian was holding a kid. But... it was kind of nice. 

 

“Don't you dare to tell anyone that.”

“Never, babe.” The ex-soldier kissed Jim on the cheek before he opened the door to their bedroom. Just a few steps further he put him on the bed. 

Again he loosened the tie, Jim watching him. “Take off the shirt and jacket too,” Jim ordered. He wanted to see the tattoos again. 

 

Of course Sebastian did what he was told. The jacket was unbuttoned, the waistcoat, the shirt... Black and orange and red ink drew a tiger from the hip to the chest on the right flank. 

 

“Happy?”

“Very,” Jim smiled. 

 

Sebastian threw his clothes to the ground, Jim knew that already. Still he couldn't help himself, he rolled with his eyes, but his sniper just grinned. He had seen it. When he wanted, Sebastian could be a very good observer.

 

“Do you wanna say something boss?” He asked while he sat down between Jim's legs.

“The clothes were expensive.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sebastian explained, kissing him roughly after these words. 

 

Jim wrapped his legs around his sniper, pulling him and his delicious cock closer. Sebastian stabilized himself with his arms next to Jim's head. The criminal mastermind couldn't help himself, he felt like prey in front of Sebastian. He squirmed under Sebastian's blue eyes until his tiger bit him into the earlobe. It felt... strange, but not bad strange. The fingers of just one hand unbuttoned Jim's suit jacket, followed by the waistcoat he was wearing before they slipped under Jim's shirt. They draw little circles on Jim's skin. One (it felt like the index finger) dip into Jim's belly button while Sebastian's teeth were wandering above Jim's neck again. He bit him again, harder than in the ground floor. It hurt. It really did, but it was a sweet pain and Jim found himself sighing. Fucking body reactions... Sebastian licked over the place he had just bitten, and it sent sweet shivers down Jim's spine. 

 

“You are enjoying it,” the smaller man said.

A hand pressed against his crotch. “You too.”

“Yes, but I’ve had enough from the foreplay, let us get real.”

“Okay,” Sebastian grinned. 

 

He reached out to the bedside cabinet; there he pulled out a tube of lube. Meanwhile Jim took off his shirt and threw it to Sebastian's clothes.

 

To his expression his boss said: “Mine wasn't that expensive.”

Again Sebastian laughed and Jim remembered how much he missed it in the stupid university. 

 

Then, Sebastian turned his attention to Jim's pants. He opened it without another word, pulled it down with the socks, before he threw it to his clothes. It followed his own trousers and underwear. Almost naked, Jim felt uncomfortable suddenly. Maybe because Sebastian looked so fucking in love. 

 

“Don't say you missed me. You’ve said it too often,” Jim told him, turning his face away from those blue eyes. 

“Okay,” Sebastian answered before he kissed Jim's lips, his neck again down to his chest. 

 

Jim needed a moment until he understood that he caught his breath when Sebastian kissed his collar bones, long and gentle, going down kissing Jim's chest, took Jim's nipples in his mouth. Jim squirmed under him. 

 

“Sebastian, enough.”

“You let me wait two years for you, you can manage a few minutes while I'm enjoying your sweet body.”

“Is that punishment?” Jim growled.

His best man laughed. “What do you think, darling?”

Jim wanted to push him away, but Sebastian caught his wrists, pressed them at the pillow above Jim's head. “Let me go, tiger!”

“No.”

“Sebastian, that's not funny!” 

Sebastian's face went blank. “You are right... it isn't funny.” He let Jim go and stood up from the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I think... I think I should sleep in a guest room.”

“You can't just go!”

The ex-soldier was at the wardrobe already, got a underwear and a t-shirt for the night. “Well... so you can see how it feels. 

 

When he left the room Jim threw the lube at him, but unfortunately he missed. Frustrated, he sank back into his pillow. Stupid Sebastian. 


	11. December 2nd 2013, Boston, Massachusetts, USA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim never tries to apologize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to say except thanks to nitininha for correcting the text, to the gang because they haven't killed me, and to all the other readers for reading.

**Chapter 10: December 2** **nd** **2013, Boston, Massachusetts, USA**

Sebastian heard the steps at the door, but he didn't look up from the scrambled eggs in the pan.

 

“Why are we fighting, tiger?” Jim asked. He wrapped his arms around Sebastian's hip, so the ex-soldier had the arms free. Said one knew that wasn't for apologizing or something. His boss just knew that he couldn't be angry for long, when he, Jim himself, made the contact.

“Because it's a fucking game for you, Jim. Nothing more. Feelings... my feelings don't matter in your great game, your great showdown against Sherlock Holmes.”

“Don't pretend you are the only one who was left behind.”

“You mean John Watson?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I'm sure he got a real apology from Sherlock.”

“Is that what you want?”

“N-no! Jim, I just wanna be taken serious, is that so wrong?” They still stood like this while the eggs got a golden color.

 

Jim sighed before he pressed a kiss on Sebastian's back. It was a short kiss, almost domestic. Sebastian felt how his knees got weak.  _ Don't give in, he is just playing with you ,  _ Jim's voice in his head said. And it was right, but still. 

 

“Even in the household of Holmes and Watson it isn't all the same,” Jim told him slowly. 

Something in his voice let Sebastian stop for a second. 

“Good, old Watson met a girl...”

“Well, that's nothing new.”

“...while Sherlock was away.”

“Aha.”

“You are not very interested.” Jim sounded sulking. 

Sebastian sighed. “The eggs are ready.”

“Sebastian.”

  
He had just grabbed the pan, but he let it go again when he heard his full first name from Jim's lip. _ Tiger, Sebby, Bastian, cubby, kitten _ , yeah, he could live with his pet names, but when Jim called him by his full name something big was coming.

 

“What didn't you tell me?” He turned around, staring at his boss, his lover...and whatever else, whatever Jim also wanted to be.

“Watson will marry...”

“...the woman he just met? I mean... how long do they know each other? Can't be longer than two and a half years, can it?”

“No... but she is different, you know, that's why he chose her. All the other women, Sarah, Jeanette and who else. This woman we are talking about, wasn't just a soldier, she was in a special unit, a killer.”

Sebastian laughed. “And? I was also a soldier, would I shag Watson, would that be sooo different?”

Jim didn't laugh, he didn't even smile.

“Goddammit, Jim, it can't be that bad!”

“Her name is Mary...”

“A lot of women are called Mary, it's one of the most popular names in the world.”

“...Elizabeth...”

“Another very popular name.”

“...Morstan.”

“And?”

“Sebastian, don't pretend you are stupider than you really are!”

 

Said one clenched his jaw, while he was rubbing his face. Jim wouldn't be so stubborn if it wasn't important or something about one of them both.  _ Mary Elizabeth Morstan _ _ .  _ Elizabeth was the name of Sebastian's sister, Maria, the German version of Mary, and Morstan... wasn't that very close to Moran? Suddenly he felt sick, but he didn't want Jim knowing that, so he smiled. 

 

“Well, my sister, if you can call her that, fucks with the best friend of the guy who was the reason, why you faked your death, and?”

“Don't try to make me believe this bullshit. I know you better.”

“Seriously, Jim, do you think I don't understand what you are trying? That you tell me the truth because... because that makes something good between us? Also, how long have you known it?”

The expression on Jim's face was answer enough.

“You held it back.”

“Because you would be angry, just like now.”

Sebastian laughed frustrated. “Do you know why I'm angry? Do you understand it?”

“You feel betrayed by your sister, by me...”

“I asked you if you understand it!”  


Dead eyes looked at him. Like every time, a look in them sent Sebastian shivers down his spine. In them lay the promise of pain and lust and fear and a brilliant mind. Sebastian loved this mind, he really did, it was the only thing that kept him alive and whole, but he was too tired for that at the moment. Sometimes it was just too much.

 

“My... _sister_ ,” he said the word like an insult; “is going to marry the best friend of the guy who is the reason why you faked your death. No, Jim, I don't wanna hear your commentary! I... Can you imagine what I went through? Your voice sticks in my head! Every time I'm just a little bit stupid or naive or make a mistake, every time I hear you in my head! You are everything and John Watson and Sherlock Holmes took you away from me.”

“You wanna kill them...?”

“I wanna kill everyone who is close to them. Elizabeth is close to them? Okay, I’ll kill her too. Fuck the eggs are burnt!” 

 

Sebastian grabbed the pan again, threw the eggs into the trash. His heart was bumping too fast and hard. He almost ran with the hot pan into Jim because he couldn't see right. Something... blurred his vision.

 

“Put the pan away.”

“I must make breakfast. We have appointments.”

“I know, baby, put the pan away.”

Sighing, Sebastian followed the order.

“Come here.”

And Sebastian did.

 

Jim leaned now against the kitchen table, arms open to hug Sebastian. Sebastian let him, hiding his face in Jim's neck. Not until now he had understood what had blurred his vision. Tears. They were running over his cheeks, Jim's neck. The ex-soldier breathed Jim's smell, trying to memorize it.

 

“We'll be us again, tiger, and then you'll bring me the head of your spoiled sister. Does that sound good?”

“Perfect,” Sebastian replied in a croaky voice. 


	12. January 4th 2014, Boston, Massachusetts, USA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian is on a job and Jim is bored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both songs are from Fiddlers Green (the titles are written in the text). Thanks goes to nitininha, but you know that already, to the gang, what a surprise, and to you, my dear reader(s). Have fun!

**Chapter 11: January 4** **th** **2014, Boston, Massachusetts, USA**

_“I'm bored,”_ Jim told him through the headphones.

Sebastian sighed but didn't react. He looked through his rifle scope and -!

_“Tiger, come 'ere, we can have sex.”_ Now Sebastian's boss was purring. Great. Not to mention the promise for sex like Jim didn't know he was working (of course Jim did).

“If you let me do this job right, I'm back very soon,” the ex-soldier almost growled.

Jim sounded sulking when he answered: _“Okay.”_ _  
_

His tiger could still hear him breathing, but when he was working, they never lost the contact. To be honest, Sebastian couldn't remember one single job he wasn't in touch with his boss, but it didn't distract him. Quite the contrary, it calmed him just like Jim would scratch him behind the ear.

 

Again he looked through his scope, aiming the target, a man in his 50s in a white disco suit. It looked absurd, but the men had high debts. Debts he had to pay to the wrong man. Sebastian aimed the head. When the job was to not make them suffer he always aimed the head. He exhaled and shot. The man in the disco suit fell. The sniper imagined the noise he would make when he fell to the ground before he breathed and get up. Sitting there he disassembled the rifle, putting it back in his light sport bag. It wouldn't attract attention.

 

Finally, when he left the building, he said: “I'm coming home.”

_“Good,”_ Jim replied after a few seconds. _“I have bought us something.”_

“You were shopping?” Sebastian laughed. His boss had to be extremely bored when he was shopping. “What did you shop? Milk?”

_“Haha.”_

“Did you run into a door?”

_“I fucking hate you.”_

“Yeah, probably you do. So tell me, what did you buy?”

_“Come home, I'll show you._ _”_

Sighing, Sebastian took a cab.

 

~Φ~

 

“Jim?”

No response.

Sebastian sighed again while he loosened his tie and walked into the living room. Suddenly he stopped at the door.

 

Jim lay there on the white leather couch watching some crap in television. He didn't even look at his sniper, who looked at the two bottles on the coffee table. At least both were full and closed. Sebastian didn't know why he was so worried suddenly. His boss had ever drunk a glass of whiskey now and then, but this was wine and whiskey and there were four glasses on the table. Two tumblers and two glasses for wine. At least he searched companionship. So Sebastian went to him, lifting Jim's legs, so he could sit down. The Irish man let him lay the legs on Sebastian's thighs then.

 

“That's why you were shopping?”

“I was bored.”

“Of course you were.”

 

Since they had been in Boston, Jim stayed too much alone at home. They couldn't risk that someone blew up their cover. Even as Sebastian's pet Jim couldn't come with him every time. It would be too ominous. The sniper couldn't imagine how it was for his boss.

 

“Are you drinking with me?”

“Is that an order?”

Jim seemed to think about it for one second. Sebastian didn't know that it was to make him feel sure or real thinking. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And how could I resist your orders, your majesty?”

At least that made Jim smile a little bit. “You can't,” the playful tone in his voice was back when he got up to pour wine in their glasses.

After he did so, Sebastian took his glass, pointing at the television. “What are you watching?”

“Talk show.” Jim pointed at the screaming man. “He had found out his girlfriend betrayed him, but at the same time he betrayed her with her sister, who got a child. Maybe from him. Maybe from another man.”

“Sounds like fun, but what are you thinking?”

“Do you really wanna hear it?”

“I love your deductions.”

 

So Jim deduced the man wasn't able to father, drinking his wine. Sebastian was drinking and watching him. Absently, he started to massage Jim's feet.

 

~Φ~

 

“You still have a terrible taste in music!” Jim insisted. His voice was louder than it had to be.

“No, sir, you are just a snob in music.”  
  
Sebastian sat on Jim's lap, staring at his black eyes. He didn't know how they came from trash shows to his music taste, but it wasn't important. Hopefully. Well... he didn't know how he came on Jim's lap either... Was that important? Anyway, Sebastian started to give Jim a sample of songs he loved.  
  
So he pulled out his cell (he ignored the fact that he almost fell from Jim's lap and the couch). Closer than usually he put it in front of his eyes.   
  
Jim giggled. Yes. He giggled. Sebastian was sure he had never seen his boss drunk before. “I think you need glasses.”  
His sniper shook his head. “Na, I'm just drunk.” With his wibbly-wobbly fingers (maybe he had really spent too much time in England, like... you know, wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff) it took him longer to find the right song.

 

A guitar played the first accords before someone started to sing.

 

_“When I came up to London, I saw him in town_  
 _He was having a drink, he clearly looked really down_  
 _He got a whiskey, and that was his doom_  
 _I thought it was time to help him out of this gloom,”_ Sebastian joined the singing.

Jim shook his head. “ _No_ _Victor and his demons_ _for me, darling_ ,” he grinned while he stabilized Sebastian who was bouncing to the rhythm of the song on his lap.

_“_ _Walking high_? Yeah, that will show that my taste in music is better than yours! Just listen:

_She makes me cry, gets me high_  
 _Never lets my tank run dry_  
 _She lifts me up, fills my cup_  
 _Treats me like a litte bug_  
 _She pulls me down, steels my crown_  
 _Lets my little world go 'round_  
 _She makes me happy, makes me say_  
 _She's always in my little head,”_ Sebastian sang.

“That's a fucking love song and it sounds like country.”

“Don't you like me singing love songs?” The sniper grinned.

“You know I'm not this kind of man.”

“God, I know that too well, but I can't help myself, can I?”

Jim smiled fondly and it made Sebastian feel warm.

He leaned forward to kiss his boss roughly, before he separated them again. “I really wish you would love me and not Sherlock Holmes, but well... I can be happy that you... that you still let me in your bed, right?”

“I like you Sebastian.”

 

It was the closest to a declaration of love Sebastian would ever get from Jim.


	13. 18th May 2014, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet home, sweet home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, that I didn't post anything yesterday, I'm sick and don't care much about at the moment. Can be that the next days just every two days a chapter will come. Like I said, I'm still sick. Anyway, thanks to nitininha and the gang and to all the readers. I hope you have fun.

**Chapter 12: 18** **th** **May 2014, London, England, United Kingdom**

“You could surprise her.”  
Sebastian laughed. “You know I would rather kill her, her husband and his best man.”  
“That's very true indeed.”

  
While Sherlock, John and even Elizabeth, now known as Mary Morstan (a look at his watch told Jim that she was still Morstan officially), had been too busy preparing the wedding of Watson and Morstan , Sebastian had built the new network. Well, Jim built it; Sebastian just did the work officially, but anyway. 

 

City by city, country by country had fallen in front of them both. Every organisation that was known for organized crime used Sebastian's (and Jim's) help; everywhere they had their people. It didn't matter that it was the Hell's Angels all over the world, the Russians, the Italians, the Tong, Triads, Yakuza, the Arabic clans in Germany, other biker clubs; short version: every organisation in their business. Bankers and Politicians searched their advice. The only country that had left had been the United Kingdom, where everything had started. 

 

“Carl Powers,” Jim said the name of the first human he had ever killed. 

“Hm?” Sebastian made, looking at him irritated.  
“Carl Powers, Sebastian.” 

“Oh, that was part of _the great game_ , right?”

To be honest, Jim was surprised. He had been sure that Sebastian hadn't memorized a thing about Sherlock except the name, but he actually had. “Do you know what happened?”

“Powers drowned, right? Was just a kid...”

“Yes.”

“Did you...?” The question was unfinished, but Jim understood of course.

He nodded. 

“You were... how old? A teenager?”

“No, I was eleven.”

“And you killed a boy in your age.”

“Yes.”

“Wow, you are pretty fucked up, aren't you?”

“I thought you knew that already.”

“Yeah, but this much...”

“Are you scared now?”

A wicked smile appeared on Sebastian's face. “What do you think?”

“That you are a strange, strange man,” Jim answered honestly. 

 

A shark would be scared by Sebastian's white teeth, he thought, when the taller mean leaned forward to him, crushing their lips together. Jim replied the kiss, digging his fingers in the fancy fabric of Sebastian's suit. For a moment he was wondering what ordinary people would have said. Probably they would have sectioned him. Fortunately Sebastian was out of ordinary (or far away from sanity), so he couldn't care less about Carl Powers.

 

“Tell me,” he ordered into the kiss, like other people would say “Talk dirty with me”. Jim knew at the moment Sebastian used everything to distract himself from his sister. After all, the tiger was hurt. And no one hurt Sebastian Moran except Jim Moriarty. Neither physically nor emotionally.

“He laughed at me, can you imagine that?”

“No.” Sebastian pulled Jim on his lap. The saloon car was big enough (and they didn't choose this kind of car accidentally). 

“I wanted him to stop.” Jim's finger glided about Sebastian's neck. His sniper shivered under the touch. Kinky bastard. 

“I would have stopped him for you.”

Jim grinned. “I know, darling.” He kissed him roughly before he stopped to continue. “I had a little bit poison with me. Well... just earth and a rotted bird I had killed. But the poison was in this combination so I extracted some of it. Although we were in London for a swimming contest I had my chemistry set with me and in that had been a microscope. Kevin, you remember Kevin, right?”

“The ginger? Where is he by the way? Did you kill him?”

“Of course I killed him, but that is a story for another day.” 

“Okay.” Sebastian rocked his hip against Jim's, who wasn't surprised that his sniper was hard already. 

“Kevin brought me Carl's bag with his eczema medicine. A little bit botulinum and I knew Carl would die. The next day during the contest he drowned. Can you imagine his fight, the screams of the kids? And we had such nice music. _Stayin' alive_. ”

“That explains your obsession with this song.” 

“Hmm,” Jim made. He had become hard from the memory. “Now you. How was your first kill.”

Sebastian laughed. “Can't remember much, not as dramatic as yours I guess. War isn't like that. You see a man with a rifle aiming you and you shoot. You can't do anything else, you don't even think. I... I just felt calm after that, after our first fight I mean. Kevin...” His voice croaked. 

 

Jim watched how he swallowed at the memory, but he couldn't help. He didn't know this kind of feeling. It was so illogical. Anyway, he grabbed Sebastian's face and leaned his forehead against his. Something like that calmed people, didn't it?

 

“Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Jim replied automatically, because what else should he say? 

“I hope you remember that I'll kill myself probably, if you kill yourself or fake your death again.” 

“I'm not planning on doing that again.”

“Good.”  


The car stopped. Jim leaned away from Sebastian to look out of the window to see if they were right. Of course they were. Smiling, he pressed a kiss on Sebastian's lips, who wanted more, but Jim separated their lips again.

 

“Home sweet home,” he grinned, climbing from Sebastian's lap to get out. 

 

Climbing plants had conquered a part of the front of their little mansion. What Jim could see from the garden looked overgrown. They would need a really good gardener. Although... maybe Sebastian and Khan would like it. The tiger would come tomorrow by plane. Sebastian and he would stay too long in London to let him alone in Boston. Also Sebastian was calmer when Khan was around. The car door closed behind him and suddenly he felt the heat of Sebastian's body.

 

“Isn't it a little bit dangerous to use the same mansion, Jim?” The taller man asked.

“No, it's sentimental. You are sentimental, so it's okay.”

“Are you joking?”

“I never joke about your sentiments.”

“Of course you do.”

Jim sighed. “True. Now come in! I wanna see how it looks.” He grabbed Sebastian's hand, who laughed quietly again.

“Sometimes you are like a little kid.”

“And?”

“Nothing. It's cute.”

“I swear to God you will scream for this.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”


	14. May 18th 2014, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian knows, Jim will kill him for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, somehow I forgot to post a chapter today, but here it is. Thanks goes to nitininha, who corrected the text, to the gang, because I know they will love it, and to the readers. I hope you have fun.

**Chapter 13: May 18** **th** **2014, London, England, United Kingdom**

Sebastian had never had the feeling of coming home, but when Jim opened the door to their old mansion, when he saw the white marble, the Chinese vases with orchids, he suddenly felt strangely warm. It smelled like disinfectant, probably Jim had let someone clean the house after their two years absence. In fact, it had never smelled different while they had lived here. Whenever it was about a clean house, Jim was a fucking perfectionist. Well, in fact he was never something different. So this smell made Sebastian happy in a strange way. 

 

While Jim unbuttoned the jacket of his suit, Sebastian found himself looking into all rooms on the ground floor, just to check if everything was the same. It was. Even the red stain on the white carpet in the living room was still there. It was Sebastian's own blood. Jim had lost control one day (again) and had beaten the shit out of his sniper. For some reason Sebastian smiled fondly.

 

He didn't hear the steps, but he could feel that Jim was closer now, very close, before his boss put his own hand on Sebastian's hip. 

 

“You are sentimental,” Jim purred.

“It's just nice to come home and nothing changed.”

 

He heard the hesitation from Jim, who didn’t have to say that wasn't quite true. Of course things had changed. Maybe not in this house, but in their life. 

 

“Come, let us look how our play room looks like.” Softly Jim squeezed Sebastian's flank, who nodded abstractedly. 

 

Jim's presence vanished again and when Sebastian turned around, he could see his boss going to the stairs. White marble, blood-red carpet. As a teenager he had laughed in everybody's face who would have wanted to tell him that he would live in such a house one day. To be honest Sebastian had always believed that he would die in the flat he had shared with his father. He had always thought that his father, Augustus Moran, would kill him one day. Actually it had happened otherwise. 

 

The ex-soldier clenched his fist when he remembered his father’s face covered in blood, the screams, when the nails dug in his hands, into the wood of the chair... Jim turned around frowning. The black eyes reminded Sebastian how he had gotten fucked by Jim in front of his father’s body on the table. 

 

Sebastian thought for a moment he would drown in darkness. Memories, what he had done in his life, so many lives he had taken, and the knowing he would do it again, over and over and over again, swept over him away like waves. He didn't doubt that he was a bad man; he wasn't stupid enough to think he was one of the good ones. 

 

“Do you think that we shouldn't exist sometimes?” He just asked.

Jim's frowning became deeper. “Wouldn't that be boring?”

Sebastian smiled slightly. “Does the man who faked his death, say that? The most suicidal man I know?”

“Yeah.”

The sniper grabbed his hand. “Did you stop wanting to be dead?” 

Jim's facial expression denied it.

“You know... you could order me.”

“And what would you do then?” His voice was soft and quiet, but Sebastian knew they both knew the answer.

“I would follow you.”

“Good that I'm not ordering you then,” Jim smirked, leaning forward to kiss Sebastian, who replied the short kiss. “Now come.”

Sighing Sebastian followed his boss.

 

Not that it was bad to follow Jim. In fact it was very great. Especially when Jim was wearing suits or pajamas or nothing... His ass always looked good.

 

“I can hear your thinking.”

“I don't mind, do you?”

“Kinky bastard.”

“I know.”  


Finally they were in the play room, but instead of being the sub, Sebastian decided that it was time to change their roles this time. His fingers dug into the expensive fabric of Jim's suit at said one's flank. The smaller man jerked under the sudden touch.

  
“You know the rules. No touching without permission,” he hissed, but Sebastian just laughed.

“I give a fuck about the rules, because they changed, babe,” he whispered in Jim's ear. 

“Moran.” Jim's voice dangerously low. 

“Jim,” Sebastian purred. 

“If you try something, I swear to God, I'll kill you.”

“Thought you'd like it.” Sebastian's hand glided to Jim's stomach, stroking the fabric under his skin, while the other hand held Jim's other flank. “So stop fucking around or I’ll make you suffer.”

Jim freed himself and turned around. “You don't think that will work out, do you?”

His sniper grinned, pulling out the gun at his hip. “Try me, baby.”

 

He wasn't a good guy, Jim could stop pretending it. No, Jim  _ had to stop _ it, and Sebastian would make him stop. 

 

Dead, black eyes looked at him. 

 

“Kneel,” he commanded. He had thought his voice would shake, but it didn't.

Jim followed the order still not saying anything, even his eyes didn't express any emotion. 

“We'll have a safe word, okay?”

His boss nodded, but no word left his lips. 

“The...” Sebastian hadn't thought through the whole thing. “It's _Sherlock_. ” That would be a turn-off. “And don't you dare to think about him while I'm fucking you. Now give me your hands.”

 

Surprisingly enough Jim followed his order without fighting back. Sebastian holstered his gun again while he took one of the ropes that hung on the wall. It was the most comfortable they had, it wouldn't cut into Jim's wrists like the others. With the rope the ex-soldier went to his boss, tied his wrists at each other. 

 

Jim grinned. “I would undress me first.”

“You didn't get the permission to speak,” Sebastian replied in his cold colonel-voice. “Also it's  _ sir  _ or  _ colonel Moran  _ or  _ tiger _ _ .  _ And don't think I wouldn't have seen the hook in the ceiling. I think we should use it for the first time.”

The grin dropped from Jim's face. 

Sebastian was very satisfied with it. “Get up.” He ignored the deadly glare of his boss when he tied him to the hook, so Jim had to stand. 

“I swear to God -”

“The second time. Oh, Jimbo, I'll punish you very much.”

 

Still Jim didn't use the safe word. He didn't stop Sebastian, although he knew he could and that meant that Jim either was really okay with that or that he tried to manipulate Sebastian so the sniper would stop himself. The last plan didn't seem to work, so Sebastian was convinced it wasn't the plan. The idea sent shivers down his spine. 

 

For a moment (it was a very spontaneous action) the ex-soldier thought what he should do as the next step. Then he decided to loosen Jim's tie. His hands were trained in this, so it didn't take long. A strange excitement made his mouth dry. He threw the tie to the ground, ignoring where it lay and that he stepped on it with his shoes. God, he was so dead, he knew that, but still he couldn't stop. The next thing Jim lost were his shoes, followed by the simple black socks, pants and underwear. Just in his jacket and the white shirt, Jim looked damn cute. For a moment Sebastian just stared at him, in these dark, dead eyes. The closet with the toys weren't new, but mostly Jim had prepared their toys for the night already, but not today. Today they just came home. Sebastian glided over riding crops, whips, paddles and bludgeon, gags and masks that would make Jim blind, but because it was Jim's first time as a sub, as a real sub in their playground, Sebastian just chose a wooden paddle. Slowly he walked back to Jim, stopped behind him, so close that Jim could feel him without touching. Then he leaned forward to Jim's ear. 

 

“You can stop me.”

“And let you win,  _ sir _ ?”

Sebastian grinned, ignoring the sarcastic tone in Jim's voice before he grabbed between Jim's legs. His boss was already hard. “It doesn't feel like you feel uncomfortable to be honest.”

“You'll feel uncomfortable when we are finished here.”

“Probably,” the sniper answered laughing. 

 

He stepped back again, struck out (not too much, he wanted to test how much Jim could manage first) and hit his boss on the bare ass. Jim gasped for breath, he could hear it, but still he didn't make Sebastian stop. Meanwhile the ex-soldier hoped Jim would never stop him. Blood was bumping through his veins, his cock pressed against the fabric of his underwear. 

 

“Did you like it?”

No reply.

“I asked you something, Jimmy.” He grabbed into Jim's hair, pulling his head back. 

A white throat was unveiled. “Y... yeah, colonel Moran.”

“Good.” Sebastian marked Jim on the neck, bit into the soft skin, licked over it, before he let him go again to step back again. 

 

This time he hit Jim harder, and instead of a simple gasp he heard a quiet moan now. Sebastian almost had lost the control and fucked Jim until they both would come, but no. No, Jim had to be punished. 

 

“I'm not the quite good soldier anymore, right, Jimmy? Not just your little kitten,” he hissed when he hit Jim again. And again and again and again. He didn't notice that he screamed angry until he threw the bludgeon in the corner and shut his mouth. 

Jim didn't say anything, so Sebastian just heard his own hard breathing. 

For a moment he got his own mind together, before he could ask in a shaking voice: “Are you okay, baby?”

“Yes.” Jim's voice sounded croaky.

“Are you sure?”

“Y...yeah, just... sir, just fuck me please.”

 

Sebastian couldn't help himself, he had to laugh. He pressed a short kiss on Jim's back of the head, before he went around him so they could see into each other's eyes. With one hand Sebastian opened his pants, while the other struck Jim's cheek just for a moment. Then he pulled his pants and his underwear down. It was a relief to get his penis finally free. He sighed quietly, before he lifted Jim's ass, who wrapped his legs around Sebastian. 

 

“No preparation?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jim hissed, before he kissed Sebastian roughly. 

 

The sniper smiled in the kiss, but soon he got serious again. He separated their lips, before he got into Jim, who was fucking tight and hot and... God. Sebastian dug his teeth in Jim's neck, so he didn't moan too loud while his boss had more control over his body. The Irish man just sighed in relief when Sebastian fucked him. The fingers of said sniper dug into the soft skin of Jim's ass, they would probably leave marks.

 

“I wanna hear you,” Sebastian panted between two strokes and then he stroke the prostate, this time Jim almost screamed. 

 

Fuck. They should do that more often. Sebastian rammed into Jim. Again. Again. Again. The dark wave swept him away when Jim tightened around him not long after that. It made him come as well.

 

He was so dead. 


	15. May 19th 2014, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian wakes up with a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to say, except the usual thanks. Thanks to nitininha, the gang and to all the readers. I hope you have fun.

**Chapter 14: May 19** **th** **2014, London, England, United Kingdom**

Actually Sebastian had been lucky. After the sex both of them had been too exhausted to do anything, even Jim. After he had been untied, Sebastian had brought him into the bedroom, where they had fallen in bed. Jim had been surprisingly clingy. He had put his head on the sniper's shoulder, his arms on Sebastian's stomach and had even allowed that Sebastian wrapped an arm around him. It hadn't taken long before they had fallen asleep.

 

But now Sebastian woke up with a start. He had heard something, hadn't he? Worried, he wanted to wake Jim, but Jim wasn't there anymore. For a moment Sebastian panicked that everything had been a dream, all the years in the jungle, the months with Jim. His heart was bumping; he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. Pictures of Jim in a body bag with a hole in the head...

 

But then he heard them. Quiet voices from somewhere in the house. He got up, grabbing the gun under his bed (yes, you became paranoid when you worked for Jim, that was sure). His naked feet met the cold, wooden ground. Fucking laminate. Sneaking, he left the bed room ignoring the fact that he was still naked. In the corridor he heard that the voices came from the living room, one of them was male and definitely Jim's, but the other one... It was a woman. And the last time Jim had a meeting with a woman in their private rooms was with Irene Adler. But they didn't fight. And it hadn't been in the middle of the night. 

 

Sebastian sneaked to the living room, leaned against the wall next to the door. He exhaled quietly. 

 

“Your obsession to this man is sick, James!” The woman shouted.

For a short moment Sebastian thought he had to laugh. No one called Jim  _ James _ _ .  _

“Still, you are helping me.”

“Because... urgh!”

Sebastian heard her jumping on her feet; quickly, he turned to the door, aiming her, thinking that she would try to kill Jim.

 

But she wasn't. She just went around the couch, on her way to go. Her hair was dark, her eyes brown, brighter than Jim's, and in her lilac dress she looked like a bridesmaid. 

 

“Your sister knew it?!” That was the only thing Sebastian could say.

“Yes, and I'm sure she enjoys the view. Get dressed, Sebastian, then we talk.”  


For a moment Sebastian fought the will to kill Jim in front of his sister’s eyes, but of course he didn't. He swallowed his anger, knowing what he had done in their play room yesterday. 

 

~Φ~

 

He was wearing light, black jogging pants and a grey hoodie. While he had got dressed, he heard Jim and Janine fighting more, although he didn't understand the words, but at the end she stayed. Though she didn't look happy about her decision. Sebastian could understand that better than anyone else. Jim was such a pain in the ass, and Sebastian himself wasn't the best companion when he was pissed. So he positioned himself on the piano stool while Jim and Janine sat opposite on the white leather couches. 

 

“At least for him you should stop it,” Janine said pointing at Sebastian, who just sat down.

“Huh?” The sniper looked a little bit irritated from Jim to Janine and back.

“His obsession with Sherlock Holmes. Did you never try to stop him with that?”

“I would end dead.” Sebastian grinned.

“Probably you'll do it anyway,” she hissed.

Jim raised a brow. “What's the point of this discussion?”

_ And why should I listen to you two? _ Sebastian thought looking at his boss, who looked bored. 

Jim replied the gaze with dead eyes.

“That you have the chance for a normal life with him! Probably he is the only person who knows you and can still love you.”

Sebastian wanted to protest, but Jim stopped him with a simple move of his hand. His face was blank and Sebastian wasn't stupid enough to think he was forgiven for the night before. “You don't know him.”

 

That was very true. A normal life. It sounded so wrong in Sebastian's ears. He couldn't imagine himself sleeping without a gun under his pillow; he couldn't see himself in a normal job. 

 

“Well, at least you could be less suicidal.”

“I... I think this is a family thing, I shouldn't be here,” Sebastian explained, getting up.

“True, but I guess you are almost my brother-in-law, although Jim would never make it official.”

“I don't want him to make it official!”

She ignored him, still looking at her brother. “Also, I was the chief bridesmaid of your sister today.”

“What?”

“I'm also part of Jimmy's plan, didn't you know?” Janine turned her face to him, but Sebastian just stared at his boss.

“What are you planning?”

Jim smiled his evil smile. “I wanna destroy Sherlock.”

“Like you destroyed him the last time?”

“Now I have your help, sister.”

“Just as long as Magnussen lives. Then I'm out.”

“Okay.”

She stood up again. “You should dump him, too,” she suggested, but then she saw Sebastian in the eyes and sighed. “But you won't. You love him.”

Sebastian felt the corner of his mouth jerking. 

“It's okay, for your own safety I wish you could, but for his... I may not be as intelligent as my brother, but I'm not stupid. I'm sure you are good for him, maybe better than anyone else. Yes, brother dear, he is even better for you than Sherlock Holmes.”

Jim ignored the comment. “Will you date him?”

“Sure.”

“Will you try to have sex with him?”

“I will try it, yes, but he is so much like you, James.”

“What?” Sebastian asked.

Janine winked at him. “You'll see soon, brother-in-law.”

“I'm not -,” Sebastian protested, but Janine interrupted him with coming to him to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Keep an eye on him. Or I'll kill you.” Suddenly her voice almost sounded like Jim's. Dangerous. But then she turned around to her brother, Sebastian heard her smiling again. “See you, brother.”

“Whatever.” Jim answered. 


	16. 18th July 2014, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock got shot and it makes Jim angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, that I didn't upload something so long. It was a little bit stressy here, because my beta (what was pretty awesome) visited me. So yeah, sorry. But anyway. Thanks to my beta nitininha for this awesome weekend and for correcting my text, the gang from the chat, who waited just like my readers, thanks to you, too.

**Chapter 16: 18** **th** **July 2014, London, England, United Kingdom**

People had died, people died in this very moment and people would die after it. Ordinary people. Boring people. But this man. This pretty, intelligent, special man. He couldn't die. His fairytale couldn't be over, there were too many dragons to slay, too many puzzles to solve and too many people to save. Also what would he, Jim, be without him? Life would be so boring again, so dull, so... 

 

A hand lay down on Jim's hip. He jerked, for a moment shocked from the sudden contact, but then the anger came back. Turning around he slapped the hand away. Sebastian's eyes looked so much like his, like hers, it repelled Jim in a way it never had before. A part of him wanted to scratch them out of the holes, letting Sebastian bleed out slowly. He wouldn't do it anyway. The logical part of his mind always reminded him how useful Sebastian was, how necessary. Unfortunately. At the moment he would make his second in command suffer for what his stupid sister had done.

 

“Should she ever try to shoot him again -!” Jim hissed.

“Then I go and bring her head to you.” It wasn't a question, no, that was a promise and Jim didn't doubt one moment Sebastian would do that. 

 

Still it didn't change his feelings for Elizabeth Moran, oh sorry, Mary Watson, for what she had done, what she had done to Sherlock, and not his feelings for Sebastian at the moment. He wanted to give his sniper more scars tonight. Sebastian felt it, so he stepped back. Clever boy. Jim would let him sleep on the ground tonight. 

 

“We should go home,” Sebastian said with a croaky voice and bad hidden pain in his eyes. “He is alive, we looked after him. Did you wanna do something more?”

“No,” Jim answered but thought:  _ Nothing more than torture your sister, rid her guts from her body and send it to Watson as a present _ _ .  _

 

Sebastian pointed at the exit and Jim followed the gesture, feeling the presence of his sniper in his back. He could smell the cigarettes Sebastian had smoked this morning in the garden while he had played with his little tiger, the beer the ex-soldier had drunk while they had awaited the news about Sherlock. Well, they had waited on John's and Mary's reaction while they had hidden. No one should know that Jim was alive. Though Jim believed Mary had seen her brother when he had come back from his tour in the next supermarket to get a beer. 

 

A nurse had commented it, but Sebastian had just given her his most dangerous glare. Both of them, Sebastian and Jim, weren't in their best mood. Sebastian because he was jealous. That it was Mary who had shot Sherlock made him even more pissed. Just stupid people would come close to him in this situation. Stupid people and Jim, because it didn't matter how angry Sebastian was, he would never hurt Jim. He was a good pet. 

 

They didn't speak on the way back, probably because Sebastian didn't want to make Jim angrier. The air between them was thick. It hadn't been as bad as today, since Jim had found Sebastian again. Jim had controlled his anger, focused it on other people, because he had to keep Sebastian. He couldn't use him, he couldn't, he couldn't... 

 

His brain rushed when he looked out of the window of the car. People, animals, buildings and signs everything mixed to a rainbow of colours. The city was so alive, as alive as Sherlock. But it had been alive before him, with him and it would be alive after him. After them. 

 

Jim had almost lost him tonight. He knew that. The knowledge made him sick, his guts cramped and he wanted to throw up. But he didn't. He was still wearing his cold mask. 

 

~Φ~

 

At home the mask dropped. Sebastian closed the door behind himself, Jim stood in front of him.  _ Breath, breath _ _ ,  _ the criminal mastermind told himself, but there was no place for breathing, there was just pure anger. 

 

Turning around he slapped Sebastian, who just looked at him with these blue eyes, deep and calm like lakes.  _ He locks himself away from you _ _ ,  _ a voice in Jim's head said. It made him even angrier. 

 

“Don't you dare to do that, Moran,” Jim yelled at his second-in-command. “Don't you dare to lock yourself away!”

 

But his voice didn't reach Sebastian anymore, so he grabbed him at his scruff, pulling him to the ground. The taller body didn't fight back. Jim kicked him in the guts, against the head, and the only reaction he got was Sebastian trying to protect his head. The anger took control over Jim, over the man who never lost his mind outside of this house, who wore mask over mask over mask, so nobody could see his emotions. But now he was crying. He was crying because he was so angry.

 

“I hate you, I fucking hate you, you bloody moron,” he screamed at Sebastian who lay at the ground. Just lay there. “I wish you were dead, you and your whore-sister! You are so stupid and ordinary and, God, are you pathetic! I should kill you.”

 

The idea popped into Jim's head. Just popped into it. And it was so brilliant. God. Bloody brilliant. Sebastian lay at the left side, so Jim could grab the gun at his hip. He controlled the ammunition, not that he had to. Sebastian always loaded his gun before he left the house and Jim knew that.

 

“I could shoot you, tiger,” Jim whispered. He imagined the blood at the white marble. “I could just kill you and you wouldn't even fight, would you?”

Slowly Sebastian lowered his arm. Real fear lay in his eyes when he saw the gun. Finally a reaction! 

“Imagine the silence. And you would be free. Free of me.”

“Jim.” The tiger sounded weak.

“Yes, babe?”

“You need me.” 

Jim stared at him. “What?”

“You need me.” Sebastian turned on his back, he smiled slightly. Blood stuck on his cheek, at the corner of his mouth. “I'm the best sniper you'll ever get, I can lead a network like yours... haha,” Sebastian laughed quietly now, “and don't forget that I'm a really good fuck.”

 

~Φ~

 

The doctor had taken care of Sebastian's ribs when Jim came to the living room. He had changed to a pyjama and calmed down while Sebastian had been in better hands than his, and then he had made tea for both of them. 

 

Sebastian didn't say anything when he took his cup, but he gave Jim a little bit space on the couch he was lying. Jim sat down at the end of Sebastian's legs. 

 

“Are you okay now?” Sebastian asked. 

Jim knew he should have asked that, but he just nodded.


	17. July 19th 2014, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, took me a few days again. I don't know when the next chapter will come, but it's already finished, but not betaed, so yeah, no idea when it will come. Anyway thanks to my beta nitininha, the gang and to you, readers. I hope you have fun.

**Chapter 16: July 19** **th** **2014, London, England, United Kingdom**

Jim had gone to bed a few hours before, but Sebastian couldn't sleep. Everything hurt. Sitting. Lying. Standing. Going. So he swallowed a painkiller dryly, that the doctor had given him and watched television for a while before he went to Khan's rooms next to the kitchen. The tiger was asleep when he came into the room, but when he heard Sebastian's steps, he raised his head. 

 

“It's pretty late isn't it, boy?” Sebastian smiled slightly while he limbed to Khan, who lay on this cheap couch Jim had bought for him. 

 

For some reason, Khan loved to lie there, but now he jumped from the couch to close the distance between himself and Sebastian. Like a cat, the tiger rubbed his head against Sebastian's leg, but his head was much bigger than a cat's and Sebastian almost fell because of the pressure. Damn these painkillers. He patted Khan before he sat down on the couch. Just a little break. 

 

God, he had hoped that would be over.

 

_ Sentiments _ _ ,  _ Jim's voice was still there. It drove him crazy. Always. But even more at this moment. 

“I fucking hate you.”

_ Na, you love me, that's your problem, your last problem. _

“Don't talk to me like you do with Sherlock.”

_ Me? Hahaha. Sebastian, I'm just a voice in your head, a voice you created to get up your ass, to think logically, to miss the real Jim less.  _

Khan jumped on the couch, laying his head on Sebastian's lap, who stroke the thick fur abstractedly. “Yeah, but at the moment I don't miss him, so you can piss off.”

_ Tze tze, that’s how you speak with an old friend? It's not my fault that you are in love with him.  _

“Shut up.”

_ No. _

“Shut up.”

_ Never. _

“Please.”

_ Oh, we are begging now? That's new. _

 

Sebastian grabbed in the pocket of his jogging pants, where he had the box with his painkillers. His fingers ran about the plastic while he thought what he should do. He could take another, maybe that would let the voice in his head hush. 

 

_ Drugs, Sebastian? Really? How pathetic. _

 

The ex-soldier leaned against the back of the chair, staring in the air, scratching Khan behind the ears. The tiger exhaled and breathed and exhaled and breathed, but to be honest Sebastian would rather hear another breathing. He was tired from waking up thinking Jim was gone again. Still. At the same time he was done with Jim, with all this shit. After all, Sebastian knew that he wasn't a dog, that Jim could kick and that he would still come back to him.

 

_ But you are his dog. His pet. You always come back. _

 

Yeah, Sebastian knew he would always come back to Jim. He would choose Jim over and over again, it didn't matter when or what Jim would have done to him, Sebastian would choose Jim from all people of this planet. To be honest he wondered what had gone so wrong in his life, what had broken him so much that he didn't care enough about his mental and physical health to stay away from James Isaac Moriarty. 

 

Sighing, he pushed Khan's head from his lap. The tiger blinked lazily at him. He was probably tired, at least he didn't fight back. Although Khan never hurt Sebastian in purpose, the ex-soldier knew that he shouldn't make him angry. Fortunately Khan was a calm tiger. Just no one should play with his food except him.

 

Sebastian got up, ignoring the pain in the area around his lower ribs, in his legs, and limbed outside the room, that he closed carefully. Khan wasn't dangerous for him, but for Jim. He hesitated about this thought one moment _ ( _ _ like I said, you are a good pet _ _ ) _ , before he turned around to walk to the entrance, to the stairs to go to the bedroom. 

 

It was late enough for the sun to dawn, but the thick curtains in front of the big window in their bedroom didn't let in any light. But Sebastian knew the room good enough to find everything. First he took off the jumper he was wearing and the jogging pants (not without taking another painkiller for the night, swallowed dryly), so he was just wearing his underwear before he crawled under the blanket to Jim. 

 

Although Jim had his own blanket, which wrapped around his small body, Sebastian felt the body heat of his boss. Jim's body was, opposed to his personality, always warm. Sebastian slipped closer to him, glided with an arm under Jim's blanket to wrap it around the smaller body. He loved to lie in this position because he could feel how Jim breathed, the lifting and lowering of his chest. Also it had something protective, didn't it?

 

“You should sleep in the guest room.” 

Sebastian wasn't surprised that Jim was awake, he felt how his boss breathed and this wasn't the breathing of a sleeping man. Unfortunately. “I want to be with you.”

“Are you a fucking dog now?” The sniper wasn't sure that Jim wanted to sound angry. Anyway. He didn't. He sounded cold maybe. Tired, yes, but not angry or pissed.

He laughed quietly, because Jim in his head asked the same. “I wondered myself about it.”  


Jim sighed. Sebastian could feel it. Sebastian could hear it. In the darkness his senses were sharper than in the light because he couldn't trust his eyes. It was calming, to be honest, to know that he wasn't useless in the dark like most other humans. He wasn't afraid of the darkness. Well, not of this kind of darkness. The smaller man turned around, his face vis-à-vis with Sebastian's. 

 

“Did you take the painkillers?”

“Two, yes,” Sebastian answered mumbling, suddenly very tired. He wasn't sure if it was because of the painkillers or if his body had just given up on him. In fact it didn't matter, did it?

“Good.” Jim's voice was quiet. So quiet.

The sniper blinked, trying to stay awake. “Yeah.”

“I have cancelled all appointments for tomorrow.”

 

Sebastian wanted to answer, that wouldn't have been necessary, but his mouth didn't follow the orders of his brain anymore. Stupid body. Jim would think he was weak. The ex-soldier wasn't even sure that he had closed his eyes or that it was just so fucking dark. An endless darkness. Just like Jim's eyes. The painkillers were good. Really good. They made him high. So high that he dreamed: 

 

_“ I'm sorry, tiger.” _

He answered with a “hmm,” although he knew that was a dream. Jim would never apologize. It wasn't his thing. Maybe he couldn't even apologize. Sebastian giggled about this thought. 

_“ We are pretty high, aren't we?”_


	18. July 23rd 2014, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today Sebastian has two appointments, he would rather skip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say when the chapters come at the moment, maybe all two days, maybe not... I'm in a very strange I don't care phase, sorry...   
> Anyway thanks to nitininha, who corrected the text, the gang of the chat for being awesome, hot and cute, and to all the readers, who are probably also cute. I hope you all have fun.

**Chapter 17: July 23** **rd** **2014, London, England, United Kingdom**

Sebastian pushed the files over the coffee table, knowing that every movement of his was saved in the other man's brain. 

 

“The information about the politicians you requested,” he told in his best business-voice. 

The other man, tall and slender, with pale blue eyes behind glasses took them. He licked his pointer finger (a provocative gesture), before he browsed the documents. “Good, good.” His voice made Sebastian shiver, but he didn't show it, wearing his perfect mask of disinterest. “This sister of yours... she is a really naughty girl, right?”

Jim had warned him that this could be part of their conversation, so Sebastian wasn't surprised or showed any reaction. “Yeah, what I heard about her said the same.”

“She tried to kill me.”

“Do you want revenge? Killings costs more, just for your information.” Sebastian smiled his most charming smile, knowing it was terrifying at the same time because it was too big for his face. 

“Oh, no, no, no. I don't want... to be part of your little network,” came the reply in the same false, charming tone Sebastian had used. 

“That's very sad. I could have used you.”

“Instead I could use you.”  
Sebastian smiled. “Because of the information you have about me, Mr Magnussen?”

Charles Augustus Magnussen leaned forward while he talked: “I could tell the police about you and the things you are doing, I could blow up your whole business. Or I could tell your customers and employees that you had sex with Mr Moriarty when he was alive. Gay in your kind of business.”

 

Magnussen's mouth stopped directly at Sebastian's ear. The ex-soldier could feel the warm breath, the wet hands that lay down on his knees. Of course he didn't feel the wetness through the fabric of his fancy suit pants, but he had touched the hands when he greeted Magnussen. It repelled him. The whole situation repelled him.

 

The click of his released gun made Magnussen stop or maybe it was the cold steel that pressed against his chin. “The police won't get me and you know that, also you know that my people know about my sexuality. And... we shouldn't forget that I can shoot you in this very moment, just because you were stupid enough to threaten me. Now sit down and don't you dare to lick just one inch of my skin.”

Actually, Magnussen leaned back until he sat at the couch, vis-à-vis to Sebastian again. 

“Thank you,” Sebastian smiled, getting up. He straightened his suit before he reached out his hand to Magnussen. “The money, please.” The gun was still in his hand, just in case Magnussen tried something else. 

 

But he didn't. He gave Sebastian the money in cash before he said goodbye. When Sebastian left the office through the lift, he exhaled loudly. God, he hated Magnussen.

 

~Φ~

 

He didn't drive home after Magnussen because he had another appointment today. Another appointment that made him as happy as the one with Magnussen, but Jim had thought it was a brilliant idea (and who was Sebastian to disagree with Jim Moriarty?). So he waited with a cigarette between his lips in front of an Italian restaurant with cheap decoration this afternoon until she finally came. 

 

She was wearing a simple red jacket and jeans, her blond hair was short like the last time he had seen her. Her blue eyes didn't lose any of their fire. They still reminded him of the eyes of his father. Not a nice feeling.

 

They didn't speak until they were in the restaurant and ordered drinks. She took a glass of water, he joined her, although beer sounded better at the moment. Of course he wasn't stupid enough to get drunk when she was around. After all she was a well-trained assassin. 

 

“I thought you were dead,” she told him instead of a greeting.

He grinned. “Dead people don't stay dead these days, do they?”

“If you want revenge -!”  


The waiter came with their water. Sebastian ordered a salad, Mary wanted a pizza.

 

“I want my old life. Sherlock Holmes was part of Jim's life not of mine.”

“He became through Jim.”

“Maybe,” he answered after a few moments of silence. “Anyway, Sissy -.”

“Mary. It's Mary now.”

“Right. Mary. Mary Watson.” He tasted the name on his tongue like he would taste a good whiskey. “I'm sorry that I wasn't at your wedding.”

“Oh, I'm glad you weren't.”

“At least I could have sent you a telegraph, did you do this? You and Watson?”

“His name is John.”

“Yeah, yeah, well... John...”

“And yes, we did, but it's good that you didn't do anything. It's... I'm not sure what Sherlock would have deduced.”

Sebastian smiled. “He didn't know about Magnussen.”

Elizabeth, no, Mary avoided his eyes. “Now he does.”

“I know.”

“Yeah, I have seen you in the hospital.”

“Is that why we are here now?”

She shrugged. “I guess. What happened to your face?”

 

Sebastian had almost forgotten the bruises since he had looked into the mirror this morning. The one at his eyebrow was still there; Jim's shoe had made it. 

 

“A fight between me and a customer. You should see the other guy,” he lied with a smile. 

Her answer was a little sigh before she asked: “He stays dead, doesn't he?”

He blinked irritated. “Who?”

“Don't pretend you are stupid, Sebastian. You know exactly who I mean. Moriarty. He stays dead, right?”

“You should know that better than me. You have the contact with the witnesses. I... I just know that he blew out his brain with a gun.” Pictures of Jim on a roof top popped up in his mind. He could almost smell the blood in the air. “He's dead and he doesn't come back.”

“Good. Then I have a request for you.”

“Go ahead.”

“Leave London, Sebastian. My marriage is hard enough since -.”

“Since you almost killed the best friend of your husband. I got Sherlock's files from the hospital – don't ask, I have my people everywhere – his heart stopped. He was actually dead. What does John think about it? Does he know?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, he does. Sherlock tricked me.”

Sebastian smiled. “Of course he did.”

“John... John needs a break.” Even now she avoided his eyes; she put one hand on her stomach. A gesture Sebastian often saw in pregnant women. He wasn't surprised. Jim had told him something like that.

“You are pregnant and your husband hates you because you almost killed his best friend. And I thought I'm the one with the fucked up love life.” 

“Yeah, you are very helpful at the moment,” his sister hissed. 

“I'm not here to be helpful, sister of mine,” he replied. “But let us come back to your request. What do you want me to do?”

“Leave London. I can't risk that John finds out about my relationship to you... or to Moriarty.”

“I guess John already knows that you are an assassin...”

“Yeah, but it would be different if he found out that I worked for the man who took his best friend away from him for two years.”

“Two and a half. Almost.” 

“So are you leaving?”

Sebastian smiled slightly. “I'm sorry, Mrs Watson, I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is Jim's legacy to me: London.”

“You didn't care about London for years!”

“But now I do and I won't go back to America, Sissy.” He got up. “I guess you are paying the salad for me, aren't you?”

She looked at him in shock. “You can't do this, Sebastian, you just...”

“I can and I do.” Again, he straightened his suit before he left the restaurant ignoring Mary Watson.


	19. 23rd July 2014, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is bored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone knows Ode an die Freude (Ode to Joy). If not you can find it one youtube.  
> Thanks to nitininha, who corrects my text and is very patient at the moment (because I'm very blocked), to the gang, who are amazing and supporting and the best what happened to me in a long while, and of course to all readers, because I wouldn't write so much or at least wouldn't post so much, if I didn't see the kudos. I hope you have fun.

**Chapter 18: 23** **rd** **July 2014, London, England, United Kingdom**

Boredom. Boredom. Boredoooooom. Jim turned on his stomach, turning his head so he could still see the telly. The whole thing made him lazy and hyperactive at the same time. His whole body tickled, red scratches were all over his arms (as Sebastian pointed out last night, what a genius), above his belly button. Usually his fingernails were manicured, but now they were shortened by his teeth, which chew in them just as Sebastian left the house. They looked disgusting, but it helped a lot against this nervous energy.

  


Jim turned around again, laying on his back now, staring at the ceiling. Slowly he pulled his shirt higher, so his bare, white skin was uncovered inch by inch. He started at the left side of his chest now. The nails of his index, middle and ring finger dug in the skin before he moved his hand to the right.

  


It hurt. The skin became hot under the treatment, but it didn't bleed. His nails were too short. He frowned before he started another strategy. Again he dug his nails at the right side of his chest. Quickly, he moved them just a little bit to the right, back to the left, back and forth, back and forth. The pain was awesome. For a moment he forgot everything, Sherlock, Sebastian, John, Mary, the work he couldn't do because he had to be normal, ordinary, boring.

  


Jim had never thought he would miss to be Moriarty so much. He had thought books about mathematics would be distracting enough, to plan Sebastian's movement would be enough, but nothing of these were enough, could never be enough. The boredom made him sad, depressed, angry; it was heavy like an elephant on his chest.

  


Something. Something should help. Something dangerous. Something that conquered his mind with adrenaline. Something, something, something – oh!

  


With an enthusiasm he hadn't had for weeks, he got up. He hummed something. For a moment he stopped to remember what. It was _Ode an die Freude , ode to joy_ as it was called in English, written by Ludwig van Beethoven, well, the music was composed by him as a part of his ninth symphony. The lyrics were written by Friedrich Schiller as a poem.

  


Jim felt that his steps got lighter while the song was playing in his head.

  


_“Freude, schöner Götterfunken_

_Tochter aus Elysium,_

_Wir betreten feuertrunken,_

_Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!_

_Deine Zauber binden wieder_

_Was die Mode streng geteilt;_

_Alle Menschen werden Brüder,_

_Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt,_ _”_ he sang in his best German.

 

Of course he knew the meaning of the words. He had learned German in a few hours, although the grammar was quite different from the English. But he was a mastermind, right? Languages didn't always follow logic, but in fact the structure based on it. So they weren't that different from mathematics, unlike what other people said. After all, every form of art (yes, for James Isaac Moriarty mathematics was a kind of art like music, paintings, poems and even languages themselves) based on logic. And he pitied the people who couldn't see that, the ones who couldn't see the patterns. He pitied them and at the same time, they repelled him with their small minds, caught in a world without any imagination, without observing.

 

They were so boring and the more he didn't do anything important, anything that wasn't boring, the more he felt like them. The biggest fear of him was to be ordinary, but what could he do to stop himself becoming boring?

 

That was why he went to his bedroom now, that was why he lay down on his stomach, in front of the bed to pull out a case that lay under it. His mind was playing now the whole ninth symphony of Ludwig van Beethoven, the last one. He felt high from the joy that flooded his whole body. Jim got up again, pressing the case at his chase before he went back to the living room. The telly was turned off by him, music, this wonderful symphony, this last one was turned on, before he sat down on the couch he had laid on a few minutes or (had it been hours?) ago.

 

Click. Click. The case was opened. Jim's finger glided about metal, followed the barrel to the grip, which was covered in wood. A Colt Paterson, invented by the famous Samuel Colt. Finally his fingers wrapped around it while his left hand put out the munition. Just one bullet to make a game out of his suicide. Jim giggled. He loved games.

 

He put the bullet in the cylinder and spun it, so he wouldn't know where it was. Closing the eyes he put the barrel at his temple.

 

The music was so loud, the bass so high that he felt it in his whole body. He loved this feeling, this vibrating in his chest. Something wet rolled over his cheek, but he ignored it _._ _Freedom_ _,_ he thought. Then he pulled the trigger. Nothing. Click. Next. He pulled again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. With every empty shot, the chance became bigger. Again. Nothing.

A hand lay down on his. He hadn't heard him coming in. The hand was gentle when it pulled out the colt out of Jim's hand. Another one stroke Jim's black hair. Automatically the genius leaned in the touch. Someone kissed him at the temple, the place where the barrel had touched his skin before. Then the hand in his hair vanished. Jim heard that the cylinder was opened, the bullet was put out. Still he didn't open his eyes. Lost himself in the symphony. In the last symphony of Ludwig van Beethoven. The case was closed, someone sat down next to him. A thumb stroked over Jim's cheek, wiping the tears.

“How were the meetings?” Jim asked like nothing had happened.

“Like always, except that Magnussen tried to lick me.”

The Irish man finally opened his eyes. “I should kill him.”

“I wouldn't mind.” A smile lay in Sebastian's voice and he was actually smiling, saw Jim when he turned his face. It was a little bit too big for his face, reminding him of a shark, but he liked it. He wrapped an arm around Jim, who leaned against his shoulder, getting up his feet on the couch.

“Your sister?”

“Asked about you.”

“What did you say?”

“What do you think? I lied, told her that you are dead, that you won't come back.”

“Clever boy.”

“She wanted me to leave London.”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah.”

“And of course you denied her request.”

“Obviously,” Sebastian copied Jim's tone.

It made his boss smile. “Turn off the music and start some movie.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Literally.”

Sebastian laughed.


	20. 10th October 2014, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boredom goes worse and worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say except, thanks to nitininha for correcting my textes, the gang for being awesome and to all the readers. I hope you have fun with the chapter.

     **Chapter 19: 10** **th** **October 2014, London, England, United Kingdom**

Sebastian pointed at the door. One of his men, all in black just like his boss was positioned in front of it and was out of Jim's view. Two others should control the bathroom and the kitchen while Sebastian himself went to the living room. Jim looked at the monitor that showed what the camera at Sebastian's chest recorded. A group of three men sat there, they didn't hear the killers. Not surprising for Jim though. His sniper was deadly and silent as a tiger, well at least until he shot. The bullet of the pistol stroke into the eye of the fattest guy in the room, somewhere a woman screamed. Ah, she had taken a shower. The brawny man grabbed her blond hair, pulling her out of the shower.

 

“Get something on,” he commanded.

With shaking hands, she took the clothes that lay on the ground.

 

In the corner of his eyes Jim saw Sebastian pulling out his second gun and shooting the second man before he went to the armchair in which the first one sat. He pushed him out of it before he positioned himself on it.

 

Jim himself leaned back, put on some earphones to listen to Aria da Capo, Goldberg’s Variation BMW 988 written by Johann Sebastian Bach, the version of the movie Hannibal.

 

The chat with Andrei, the man Sebastian hadn't killed, was so well-prepared that nothing could go wrong. Also Andrei was so scared (he had even pissed himself, how disgusting) that he would agree in everything.

 

When the music itself already started, Jim rolled up his sleeves. The white fabric revealed scarred skin, inch for inch. He was so bored. Always. Even Sebastian couldn't distract him enough anymore. And God knew he tried his best. It was also Sebastian who had sutured the wounds which were too deep. He had learned it in the army, Jim guessed, or in the jungle, where no one had been except himself. Anyway. Sebastian was more than ever Jim's loyal colonel. And they both were waiting for the day Jim could finally come back.

 

Slowly the Irish man scratched at the scab of the newer wounds. They hadn't been deep enough to have to be sutured. So at the moment he was free from stitches at the moment. 

    

~Φ~

 

Later, when he made himself tea, he heard that the door was opened. The jingling of the keys told him that it was just Sebastian. So he relaxed a little bit, listening to the steps when the heavy jackboots were put at their place (Jim didn't allow them in the house except in the playroom). From the noises, he knew Sebastian would slip in his slippers in this very moment before he would come to the kitchen to get something to eat. Sebastian was always hungry after a job. 

 

“I'm home, kitten.”

 

Not just for food.

 

Jim grinned when he turned away from the kettle. “It's hard not to hear you.”

“Ask Andrei and his friends,” Sebastian replied the grin. “What are you making?”

“Tea.”

“Can I get a cup as well?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” Sebastian placed a kiss in Jim's neck before he went to the fridge. “Do you wanna eat something?”

“No.” Jim wasn't hungry. In fact he was rarely hungry nowadays. 

“Have you eaten anything today?”  


Sebastian had left the house early to explain the plan to his team today, while Jim had pretended to be still asleep. Jim had thrown in the bin the rest of the scrambled eggs that were in the pan because he hadn't really been hungry when he got up and cleaned the kitchen, because he didn’t have anything different to do. Finally, when the mission had started, he had to lead Sebastian and his men through the building. Though that had been distraction just for one or two hours...

 

And Sebastian saw that. “Come, I order pizza and while we are waiting I look at your arms, okay?”

“Hmm,” Jim mumbled agreeing. 

 

It had become routine that Sebastian took care of his arms after work. So, after he called the pizza delivery service to order a big and a little pizza, he led Jim, who was carrying the tea into the living room. Jim put the tray with the cups and the teapot on the coffee table while Sebastian sat down already. 

 

“What have you done today?” It wasn't a question about work; Jim could hear that in the slightly worried tone in Sebastian's voice. 

“Just scratched at the scab,” his boss told him, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt again. 

Sebastian wrapped his arm around Jim, so the smaller man leaned against his chest, while he took Jim's wrist gently. “Okay,” he said before he pressed a kiss on Jim's temple. “We could have a quickie while waiting for pizza.” 

Jim freed his wrist smiling, because sex would be distraction. “I wouldn't mind.”

“Top or bottom?”  
  
Jim still didn't know how it had happened that they changed their positions sometimes. He also didn't know why his body betrayed him with wanting Sebastian in him sometimes. It just sort of happened. And today he was too lazy to do the work. 

  
“Bottom,” he answered. 

Sebastian grinned. “Good, I get the lube and you get you hard, okay?”  
Jim replied the grin, nodding. 

 

His right hand glided to his crotch while his other one opened, with well-trained fingers, his shirt. He felt Sebastian staring at him. 

 

Even scarred and fucked up from boredom Sebastian admired him. The first time he had seen the scars, he hadn't said much. They hadn't been deep, so he had looked at them for a few seconds. Jim wished he hadn't seen the sad flickering in Sebastian's eyes, but he couldn't ignore it. And when Sebastian had kissed him so desperately, like he had wanted to tell Jim that there was no reason to do this, to harm himself. Sebastian came back, but the memory had distracted Jim, so he wasn't ready yet. To be honest, Jim hadn't even noticed that Sebastian had left him.

 

Anyway his sniper smiled. He threw the lube at the table over the tray with the dishes before he jumped over the couch, so he sat next to Jim again. 

 

“You are not ready,” he purred, slipping his hand under Jim's, that still lay at his crotch. “If we had time, I would punish you for that...”

“You can do that after you eat.”

“After  we eat,” Sebastian corrected, pressing his hand against Jim's crotch. 

“You are such a good care taker,” Jim mocked at him smiling before he leaned forward to kiss him.

 

Sebastian's lips met his halfway, well, in fact their lips crushed together, hungry and desperate for body contact and in Jim's case, for distraction. His sniper wrapped his free arm around him, pulling him on his lap, while his other hand rubbed and squeezed his crotch. They had to make a break from the kiss before Jim really sat at Sebastian's lap, but then their lips crushed together again. But then the teasing hand vanished. 

 

Jim moaned desperately in the kiss, but Sebastian just pulled him closer, rocking their hips against each other. He was hard. Probably the job helped a lot, but in fact it didn't matter. Sebastian's now free hands glided under Jim's opened shirt, stroke the sensitive skin at Jim's flanks. It tickled a little bit, but Jim controlled his body good enough to avoid the laughter. 

 

“Enough foreplay, this shall be a quickie, Sebastian.”  


The ex-soldier grinned, but nodded, while Jim stood up from his lap. He got out of his shirt, opened his trousers and then he got completely undressed. Meanwhile, Sebastian stood up as well to get the lube. Jim felt his staring again while his fingers got under the waistband of his pants. Green.

 

“Jim from IT,” Sebastian spoke out his first thought with a croaky voice.

“Yeah, for some reason I like these pants, what do you think -?” He turned around, just to look into Sebastian's eyes. 

 

Blue eyes burning with passion. With this colour they should look colder, people could think, but they didn't. Well, they didn't look at Jim coldly. Never. 

 

Jim reached his hand out to touch Sebastian's cheek. Like a cat, a very dangerous cat, a tiger, the taller man leaned in the touch, not losing the eye contact. 

 

“I love you,” he told Jim, like it wasn't obvious.

The Irish man just nodded, unable to reply these words. 

Sebastian smiled anyway before he leaned in to kiss Jim again. Softly this time. 

“Sentiments,” Jim managed to say out loud in the kiss. His sniper chuckled about this comment.

Then he stepped back again, his finger glided in Jim's pants. “Good, enough from sentiments. Let us fuck.”  


He pulled them down, but when his face was in front of Jim's erected cock, he suddenly stopped.

 

“Everything okay, darling?” Jim teased, but when Sebastian looked up at him, his grin disappeared.

 

And then he felt the hand on his penis, still watching the sniper who leaned forward, his mouth opened... Sebastian's tongue glided over the head of Jim's penis. The smaller man gasped surprised. He didn't even know he was surprised. Of course he had seen this glimpse in Sebastian's eyes. Automatically he grabbed into the blond hair, pulling his second in command closer, so Sebastian had to take Jim's cock in his mouth. It was warm and wet. Again Jim felt Sebastian's tongue. It ran slowly over Jim's length, whose grab got tighter. He was pretty sure he hurt Sebastian, but the ex-soldier didn't let him see that. And then he started to suck. Oh, holy mother of God. Jim closed his eyes, pulling Sebastian even closer. His sniper made a strange noise.  Too deep,  Jim thought for a moment, but then Sebastian continued. Suddenly Jim felt a hand on his testicles. Fuck, Sebastian knew the tricks. He had sucked Jim's dick often enough to know how to make his boss come fast. And so he did it. A few minutes later Jim came in his mouth, moaning, and Sebastian swallowed everything.

 

Grinning Sebastian leaned back, putting Jim's penis out of his mouth. A glancing line was at the corner of his mouth. Saliva. Jim wiped it away with his thumb. The sharky grin didn't vanish.   
  
“You look beautiful after you come.”

“And you are sentimental.”

Sebastian got up, standing very close to Jim now, who had to look up to him. “Oh, even though you deny it, you like when I am like that. You would have killed me ages ago, if not.”

“You are so full of yourself.”

“Yeah, because I'm right.” With that Sebastian kissed Jim again.


	21. December 24th 2014, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim acts like a child, Sebastian tries to protect him from himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to nitininha for correcting the text, the gang for being awesome and the readers for read this. Have fun.

**Chapter 20: December 24** **th** **2014, London, England, United Kingdom**

The glass met Sebastian's forehead, where it broke. It hurt where it struck Sebastian. He could step aside so it wouldn't have struck him, but he didn't, because he knew how much it satisfied Jim, when he hurt Sebastian. That, self-harm and sex were the only things that could occupy Jim's mind at the moment. Sebastian couldn't even imagine how hard that was.

 

“I need it, Sebastian,” Jim yelled at him, grabbing the next glass.

“Fuck it, Jim! We both know how dangerous that is!”  
  
This time it was his flank. At least the fabric of his t-shirt helped. If you had asked Sebastian a few years ago, when he was still a soldier, he would have said, he would be the dangerous one in a relationship. He would be the one who couldn't control his anger and who beat his partner almost unconscious. Sebastian had been so wrong.

 

“No one will remember because you kill them all!”

“And if something goes wrong?” Sebastian yelled back. It felt like he would discuss with an especially stubborn teenager and not with a grown up man.

“It's my plan! My plans never go wrong!”  


That wasn't true and both of them knew that. Just one month ago Sebastian almost got shot because Jim thought their enemies would come with two persons less. Three people were no problem for Sebastian, but suddenly he had to pay attention to five. A grazing shot had struck Sebastian's leg. 

 

Sebastian pointed at it to make his point clear: “I got shot and almost shot often enough for you to know that your plans go wrong sometimes, Jim! We can't risk it, end of discussion!”

“But I'm dying here, Sebastian!”  


Of course. The sniper should have known that Jim would come with this trick. Though it wasn't a real trick, was it? Jim wasn't just lonely and bored. He wouldn't even get up if Sebastian didn't force him every day. 

 

“Just today, tiger, I just wanna get out of the house, seeing a little bit blood and you at work...” Jim wanted to come to him, but Sebastian raised a hand to stop him. There was still glass on the ground and Jim's feet were naked.

“Okay, if I take you with me today, no self harm! The whole day! So stay here, I take care of the glass.”  
Jim grinned. 

 

The little fucker had planned this, Sebastian understood, but he didn't take back his promise. Not just because Jim needed to get out of the house. Sebastian also remembered how good the sex had been after Jim had watched him killing and torturing people. Yes, it was an egoistic reason, but after Jim threw glasses after him, Sebastian thought he was allowed to be egoistic. 

 

The glass under his slippers creaked when Sebastian got the broom. Jim stood in the edge of the kitchen from where he had thrown the glasses, watching Sebastian carefully. Dark eyes followed the movements of the sniper and still they made him itchy. Sebastian swept the shards together, always looking if he hadn’t overseen one that could hurt Jim's naked feet, before he got a hand broom and scoop. Finally the biggest shards were thrown in the bin. 

 

“You know, you could carry me about the floor, so you don't have to fear that a small shard hurt me,” Jim smiled.

“You mean, like you would be a fucking princess?”

“Oh, honey, you should see me in a crown.”

“I saw you,” Sebastian snapped. “I saw the recording of the CCTV in television.”

“Oh, I looked awesome, didn't I?”

Sebastian sighed. 

 

He remembered this time so well, too well. The time after Jim had left him to prepare everything for his own death had been the worst in Sebastian's live. Well, except the time he thought Jim was actually dead maybe. Anyway when he had seen Jim in the British crown jewels, he couldn't deny that he looked awesome. It had made him missing Jim even more. 

 

“Ah, see, I knew you liked it!”

“Jim, shut the fuck up.”

The grinning just vanished. “What?” Jim's face had gone blank. 

“You heard me. I don't wanna talk about... this.”

“Oh, come on, Sebastian, you can't still be angry about it!”

 

Sebastian just turned around to leave the kitchen, but these words made him so fucking pissed off, that he turned back to Jim. One of his hands wrapped around Jim's neck, his over one pressed Jim's shoulder against the wall. 

 

“You. Fucking. Dumped. Me!” He wrapped his hand tighter around the neck of his boss. “I loved you and you dumped me! I waited for you, for your orders! I... fuck!”

Jim's hand wrapped around Sebastian's, which loosened its grab automatically. “We have to get ready,” Jim said, his voice blank. 

“Jim... I'm sorry.”

“I know. Let us get ready.” Passing Sebastian he petted his belly. 

His sniper needed a few minutes to calm down, but then he followed his boss. 

 

~Φ~

 

This time Jim's plan worked out. While he stood in the background, Sebastian killed two members of the tong and let the last one live. He handcuffed the hand of the Chinese man, who was shaking. A weak one. Sebastian grimaced. Probably his prisoner would piss himself after five minutes. The sniper hated it when they did that. Though pissing wasn't as bad as shitting, and yes, he had had this kind of cases already. 

 

“See nothing went wrong,” Jim sing-sang when he joined the both of them. 

The Chinese man stared at him. “Who's this?” He asked Sebastian.

“That's none of your business, sweetie,” Jim replied. He was grinning like a kid that got their Christmas present. Well, it was almost Christmas, so it counted as one. Maybe. Jim had never wanted anything for Christmas. He turned his attention to Sebastian again. “What are you going to do with him, tiger?”

“They shall see what happens with someone who makes me angry, so I'll break his fingers, his nose and his chin before I finally kill him. One of our men will position him in front of the tong head quarter in London when I finished.”

“Hmm, that sounds good,” Jim purred. 

 

He grabbed Sebastian's tie. The ex-soldier was always wearing suits at work nowadays. It gave him the boss-look. Anyway. He let Jim pull him down, so their lips could meet. They kissed hard, using teeth and tongues. Jim bit Sebastian in the lower lip and the sniper replied with biting in Jim's upper lip. For a moment the man was forgotten, but when they turned their attention back to him, he cried. 

 

~Φ~

 

Sebastian fought to get out of his jacket without break into the kiss they shared. Jim's body pressed against him, strange fingers twiddled with his belt. The ex-soldier just got out of his jacket when Jim pushed him on the bed. He fell with his back on it, his boss over him. 

 

“Get yourself outta your clothes,” Jim ordered while he was going to the other side of the bed, his side with the bed table. 

 

His second-in-command hurried, knowing that the order meant  as long as I'm not coming back to you and don't you dare to take one second more . So Sebastian ripped off his shirt. It was one of the cheap ones and ruined by blood anyway. It landed on the ground as well as his pants, underwear and socks. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Jim pulling out the lube. 

 

“Can I undress you?” Sebastian asked, knowing that he was bottom today and not allowed to order Jim. 

“The magic word, tiger.”

“Please.”

“Okay.”

 

The sniper crawled over the bed, sitting down in front of Jim, having him between his legs. He knew he looked like a fucking slut, but fuck it! He was Jim's slut, no chance to deny it. With well-trained fingers he unbuttoned the jacket of his boss, getting him out of it, then he loosened the tie before he continued with the shirt. Not long after he had started Jim was as naked as Sebastian, who leaned back again, slipping a little bit away from Jim so they would have enough place. Jim lay down next to him, kissing his neck softly.

 

Sebastian had to laugh. “What are you doing?” Soft sex wasn't their thing. 

“Sht,” Jim made him fall silent. His teeth dug in Sebastian's skin but not as deep or rough as usually, and then there was this tongue that licked about it. It made Sebastian shiver. 

“Fuck, Jim, we already had foreplay.” 

 

Their foreplay was blood and torture not soft kisses and licking and being nice. Though Sebastian couldn't deny that it was nice... Fuck. Of course he spread his legs when he felt the hand between them. The fingers were warm and lube made them greasy. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He hadn't paid enough attention to Jim while he had undressed himself. Jim started with one finger. One fucking finger while he was still kissing and biting and licking Sebastian's neck. The ex-soldier did a hollow back. Jim slipped down his neck to his chest, teasing the skin there. Sebastian sighed and moaned. 

 

He was so hot. Sweat ran down his forehead. Jim licked it away, before he vanished again, kissing Sebastian's chest. A second finger in Sebastian. He was so hard that it hurt.

 

“Jim,” he begged, but he didn't get an answer. 

 

Fuck, he needed Jim in him so much... He needed to come. The fingers stretched him slowly, before a third joined them. 

 

“Please, sir! Fuck -!”

“Watch your tone, tiger.” Jim's voice sounded totally normal. It scared Sebastian.

 

A tongue slipped over Sebastian's nipple, who grabbed his own hair. Just a little bit pain, fuck, he needed it. Fucking masochism. 

 

Finally the fingers slipped out of Sebastian. He sighed in relief, hoping that Jim would finally take him. And actually Jim glided between Sebastian's legs, but he took the lube again.

  
“No, no, Jim, I can live without that, please!”

An evil grin appeared on Jim's face. “I love when you are like this.” He put the lube away again, placed himself so he could fuck Sebastian just like this. And then finally. 

 

The preparation made it easier for Sebastian, but Jim moved so fast, that there was still this fine pain. Sebastian dug his nails in Jim's back, when Jim struck his prostate the first time. He moaned and yeah, he also heard Jim breathing harder. 

 

“Touch yourself,” Jim commanded. 

Sebastian followed every order and so he did this time as well. 

 

The double sensation made him hotter, he could barely focus anymore, and he was just before...  
  
“Come for me, tiger.”  
  
And Sebastian did. 


	22. January 1st 2015, London, England, United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian feels old and Jim hasn't talked with him for almost a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter won't be that long, but I hope, you'll still have fun with it. Thanks to nitininha, who is correcting chapter 22 at the moment, to the gang, because it's nice always have someone to talk with, and to the readers of course.

**Chapter 21: January 1** **st** **2015, London, England, United Kingdom**

He felt so fucking old. The wrinkles around his eyes got deeper and deeper every day, the blue of his eyes lost their fire, his back hurt and he was so fucking tired. If he could decide, he wouldn't even go back home anymore. Jim had become worse.

 

On Christmas day they had seen in the news that Charles Augustus Magnussen had been killed. There hadn't been a name, but from Jim’s reaction, Sebastian could have seen that it had been about Sherlock. And who else would Mycroft Holmes protect from the journalists? John maybe to protect Sherlock feelings, but then Jim had gotten a text. He had read it and without any word he had gone to the bedroom, where he locked the room so Sebastian couldn't come in. That night the sniper had slept in the living room on the couch. He hadn't chosen the bed in their play room because it wasn't meant for sleeping. Also he couldn't bear to be surrounded by all this stuff when Jim wasn't around.

 

The next day he had tried to talk with Jim, but his boss had just left the room, ignoring him. But he had tried it over and over again for three days. No reaction. Not even anger. Just nothing. It hadn't changed in the last days, but Sebastian had given up on trying to talk with Jim. He had his job as the notes at his desk had said.

 

So, when he came home this day, he felt old and tired and he didn't want to do anything except sneaking in Khan's room, but then he almost fell over the suitcase. It wasn't Jim's, it was his. Suddenly he felt sick. With weak knees he went into the living room, where Jim was curled up on the couch. 

 

Sebastian wanted to say something, but not a noise left his throat. He felt like the day he had realized that Jim had left him. Something cold had wrapped around his heart and he wanted to scream and throw up and destroy things, destroy Jim, but he couldn't because he felt empty at the same time. 

 

“You saw the suitcase,” Jim deduced without looking up.

“Yeah.” It was so hard to say this short word. 

Finally Jim sat up, staring at him with soulless, black eyes. “You'll go to Russia, there's a job that has to be done.”  
A job. Just a job. Sebastian blinked the tears away. “And then?” His voice was croaky. 

“You'll come back. It shouldn't take you longer than two days.”

“Okay.”

“He'll be banned, Sebastian. Can you imagine that?”

Sebastian didn't ask who. He knew. “For killing Magnussen?”

“Yeah.”

“I'm sorry, Jim.”

“London is nothing without him, a dull city like every city everywhere.”

_ And you wouldn't have a reason to live without him _ _ , Sebastian thought _ , but he didn't say anything about it. Instead he went to Jim.  _ And without you I wouldn't have a reason to live. _ “When does my plane leave?” 

“In the morning. Someone brings your case away, so you can stay until then.”

“Okay.”  


Sebastian sat down next to Jim. His head was empty and full of questions. Would Jim still be here, when he would come back? Would he leave him just like the time before he had faked his own death? Or would he commit suicide here in their home so Sebastian would find him? 

 

“You could look for him when he is banned.”

“He won't be alive for long, Sebby.”

 

Jim lay down again. This time he placed his head in Sebastian's lap. The sniper stroked the dark hair. It felt soft without any styling products. 

 

“I hope there's a special place for people like us in hell,” he mumbled.

It made Jim laugh. Fuck, Sebastian missed that. “You still believe in hell, Moran?” 

 

The sniper could answer that he had already seen hell when he had been a kid and teenager in the flat of his father, when his best friend had killed himself and when Jim had faked his death. All these had been hell for him. So he had to hope he would see Jim there again, otherwise he didn't know what would happen.

 

“Yes, I do,” he just replied. 

“So sentimental.”

“Sorry.”

“No... it's fine.”

Sebastian bit himself on the lower lip. 

 

When Jim said sentiments were fine something was very wrong. Said one turned on his back, so he could see Sebastian in the face. If it hadn't been Jim, Sebastian would have said he saw tears in the dark eyes. But that was silly and stupid. 

 

Sebastian leaned forward to kiss him. Jim replied slowly. It was nice. Just a little kiss and still it felt like a goodbye. Maybe a goodbye forever. Jim's tongue glided slowly about Sebastian's upper lip, who opened his mouth automatically. Their tongues met, touched each other softly. Jim tasted like fine whiskey. He had drunk. That explained a lot. His sniper could use a drink as well, so he separated their lips.

 

“Where is it?”

Jim acted innocent. Little fucker. “I don't know what you mean, love,” he told him a little bit pouting. 

“You know what. The whiskey.”

“Which whiskey, darling?”

“That one you drank before I came. I taste it in your mouth, Jim.”

“Ooohhh”, Jim made, acting surprised, “ this  whiskey.”

Sebastian couldn't help himself. He smiled. “Yeah, this whiskey. Where?”

“Kitchen.”

“Okay, I'll be right back.”

“Don't get too drunk, tiger. I need everything you can give tomorrow.”

“No worries.” 

The ex-soldier pushed Jim from his lap before he got up to go in the kitchen. 

“Bring the whole bottle and the glass. We can share both,” his boss exclaimed. Sebastian chuckled when he entered the kitchen. 

 

Yes, there was a bottle with a fluid of the color of amber on the kitchen counter and a glass that smelled very much like whiskey. The bottle was one of these decoration bottles which looked awesome but didn't tell anyone what was in them, but knowing Jim and his spoiled taste Sebastian didn't think it was Jack Daniels or Jim Beam or another blended whiskey. Maybe an Irish one. Maybe not. Sebastian was used to the cheap stuff.

 

When he came back with bottle and glass, Jim had sat up. He stared at the television, where some movie was on. Sebastian hadn’t paid attention to it and even now he wasn't interested.

 

He put both, bottle and glass, on the coffee table. To get into a conversation, he asked: “What are you watching?”

“Irish movie,” Jim answered bored, “about a stag, the best man is in love with the bride and the groom is too stupid to notice it.”

“Awesome,” Sebastian joked, but just got a deadly glare from black eyes. Sighing he poured the whiskey in the glass before he sat down. Again Jim placed his head onto his lap. It was quite domestic. “I love you,” his sniper told him.

“I...” For a moment Sebastian hoped Jim would reply that. “I... I know, Sebastian.”

Said one smiled sadly, before he took a sip from the whiskey. 


End file.
